Harry Potter and the Oracle of Four Seasons
by Ri-kun
Summary: Book 2 of DoD Trilogy! 6th Year. As Harry approaches Hogwarts, both the Ministry and Voldemort's Death Eaters conspire to seize him for their own purposes. Hearts get joined and broken as Harry is called to train warriors for the final battle.
1. Chapter 1 Flight From the Burrow

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 1

_**Flight From the Burrow**_

by Ri-kun

Something below him shook with all the force of an explosion. Harry glanced away from the window for a second, where he'd placed himself to watch the garden below. There was nothing of particular importance down there. He'd simply found the view soothing. All the action, it seemed, was going on downstairs, judging by the shouting that drifted up the stairs a second later. Ron had once again dropped something, and Mrs. Weasley was yelling at Ginny to hurry or else they'd all be late. Rather than be annoyed, he was finding the sounds relieving. Considering the past several weeks, a little normalacy before they headed back to Hogwarts was in order.

Harry made sure he was packed; a quick glance at the truck all packed up and secured tightly confirmed this, so he went back to his perusal of the garden gnomes below. Crookshanks had somehow gotten out when no one was watching. The bottlebrush-tailed cat had cornered several of them behind a bush, and now leaped high in the air to pounce. The gnomes scattered before he could land though, which Harry suspected was his intent all along.

The door swung open behind him without so much as a knock. Harry didn't bother turning around to see who it was. A whiff of some enticing perfume drifted over his nostrils. There were only a handful of women in this house, and by the frustrated, impatient stomp, that narrowed it down to two.

"Mind if I hide out in here?" Ginny asked, walking up to him. "Mum's driving me batty with her ranting. I think Ron's dropped about every piece of luggage we're talking with us. Most of the time, it's either on or near my feet!"

Harry chuckled softly, but didn't respond in kind. "It's all on account of her, you know," Ginny went on, glaring at him. "The way she just drifts into the room without so much as a warning. Bit pathetic, really. Each time he catches a glimpse of her, his face goes slack and whatever he's holding gets strewn all over the floor. I really don't know how Hermione can stand it."

Ginny eyed him for a moment. "Bill seems to be taking it in stride, though. I guess he figures Ron can't help it. I mean, he probably should get used to that sort of thing, marrying up with somebody who's part veela and all. But, still!"

Harry just nodded. "And Hermione's trying so hard to pretend she isn't jealous. It's practically written on her face."

"Right."

"Harry, I have great big unicorn horns coming out of my nostrils."

"That's nice."

"I'm glad you like them. I thought if tried something like this, Mum wouldn't be so down on me for getting my ears pierced. She's really been on a tear this morning, especially since we all found out the twins are sharing a bed now. And you haven't heard a word I've said this whole time."

Harry's eyes remained fixed on the window. "Harry," Ginny whispered softly. "I really do think she'll come back. It's just... taking her awhile, or something."

"Huh," he said, finally looking at her properly. "Did you say something, Ginny?"

Ginny shook her head and smiled weakly. "No, Harry. I just came in here to tell you that you should probably get your things and come downstairs. Ron's having to do all the lifting on his own, and it isn't going very well."

"Sorry," he apologized. "I was just sitting up here, thinking."

Harry followed her down the stairs to the drawing room. There was pandemonium everywhere as usual, and their ride was supposed to be here at any minute. Hermione had textbooks scattered all over the place in a corner where her clothes had been carelessly dumped out. She was still glaring hard at Ron, who was pleading that it had been an accident as he tried shoving everything back in at one time. This, of course, was not going very well, as Hermione kept knocking things out of his hands, claiming that they didn't belong together. Apparently, she'd arranged everything in some specific order that made sense to her alone, and was now attempting to rearrange everything as Mrs. Weasley shouted for everyone to hurry up.

Harry placed his trunk in the center of the room, then proceeded to help as best he could. Ron finally gave up trying to help Hermione, and busied himself by bringing Ginny's things together for her. Mrs. Weasley explained in a very panicked voice as she tried shoving toast into everyone's mouths that Dumbledore had sent for several members of the Order, who were due to be here any second. They were to be Harry's guard on the way to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. She was telling him all this while passing out jam and straightening things on shelves. By the time she was finished, and everything in Hermione's trunk had been packed up again, the drawing room looked as though it'd been struck by a low-riding windstorm.

"So, how are the Order taking us to King's Cross?" Harry asked, once Mrs. Weasley had left.

"Dunno," Ron said, taking great pains to avoid looking Hermione's way. "I overheard Dad talking last night, though. He thinks maybe Dumbledore might send for thestrals."

"Don't be silly, Ron," Hermione quipped. "How are we supposed to get our luggage to Hogwarts on thestrals."

"Probably a spell Dumbledore knows," he shrugged, looking away. "Anyway, Mum says they'll be here any minute."

"We heard the first eight dozen times or so she told us," Ginny shot. "Thanks for reminding me, though."

Harry let his mind wander for a moment. The last time he'd been escorted anywhere with the Order, they'd taken him by broomstick. Maybe Dumbledore thought it would be that easy again. He eyed his trunk for a moment as Ginny and Ron continued to argue with each other. Rayne's letter was tucked away on top. He planned to take it out before boarding the Hogwarts Express. For a moment, he entertained the idea of Rayne waiting for him there, hidden amongst the crowd watching for him.

Where could she have gone to?

"Alright, you lot. That's enough now!" Mrs. Weasley stormed back in with a furious look on her face. "Get yourselves together and be quick about it. I don't want to be hearing anything about how you forgot something. Leave anything behind this year, and you won't see it till next summer!"

Harry thought he heard something coming up the driveway. Given the way everyone else reacted, he wasn't the only one, either. Ron made it to the window first, and let out a joyful gasp.

"They've brought cars with them!" he cried out. "The Order's brought cars again!"

Harry peered around Ron's much taller frame to get a look, and immediately frowned. He wasn't the only one who saw it. Ginny took one look, and immediately pulled the curtain closed.

"Hey!" Ron snapped at her.

"Ron, those are Ministry cars, you prat!"

"The Ministry?" Hermione asked, worriedly. "What are they doing here?"

"It's me," Harry answered gravely. "They've come here to take me."

Everyone looked at him. "We don't know that for sure, Harry..."

"After what happened two nights ago when the Minister showed up?"

"Well, I thought perhaps you could have handled it a bit better," Hermione told him. "I mean, yelling at the Minister of Magic wasn't very smart."

Harry turned away from her and looked back out the window. "He's there," he told her. "He's inside the middle car, the one that had the door open. I can just barely make him out. He came straight here to get me."

"That's really a shame," a familiar female voice called out. "He's come all this way just to leave empty-handed!"

"Mum?" Ron was looking over at Mrs. Weasley, who had just knocked over a hat rack while speaking in Tonk's voice.

"Sorry, Ron!" she apologized, switching to her more familar shape. "But this was the only way we could ensure Harry's escape."

"Of course," Ginny said, shaking her head. "This explains why you were breaking dishes all morning, and tripping over the rug. I should've seen it coming."

"Your mother is perfectly safe, Ron," she told him, holding up a hand before he could speak. Harry noticed that she looked a bit grim, and her eyes were heavy as though weighted down. "We traded places late last night. As far as the Ministry knows, I'm sick with a case of dragon pox, which will turn out to be a false alarm a few days later, and your Mum left with Arthur this morning to run a few errands. It was the best way we thought to get Harry to King's Cross without the Ministry interferring."

"But isn't Harry coming with us?" Ginny asked.

"You lot will leave with the Order when they arrive a few minutes from now. I'm to take Harry under his Invisibility Cloak out the back way. Once we're safely across the Anti-Apparation line, I'll bring us both to the Hogwarts Express and wait for you there. Just leave your trunk here, and we'll make sure it gets there in one piece."

"I'm not leaving without it," Harry said quickly.

"We don't have time to argue!" Tonk abruptly snapped. "They'll be in here any second!"

Harry blinked. It almost sounded as though Tonks were back to being Molly Weasley again. "I need it," he said, almost desperately. "Please, can't we just make it levitate or something? You could shrink it down, maybe? Or..."

"Harry, we'll take good care of it," Ginny told him, and there was a look in her eyes that said she knew exactly why he didn't want it left there. "No one will look inside."

"Dont see what the big deal is for," Ron sombered, giving Harry an odd look. "We've all seen in it before."

There was a knock at the door, which made Ron let out a high-pitched squeak. "Fine!" Tonk hissed, pointing her wand.

The trunk immediately shrunk down to about the size of a matchbox and flew across the room. It landed in Harry's palm with a resounding smack that echoed across the now-quiet room. Shadows could be seen moving across the windows as there was another knock on the door.

"This is bad," Tonk whispered, motioning for Harry to stand near her. "They'll have blocked off the back exit by now. Our main priority is to get Harry out of here without anyone noticing."

"We could send Hedwig," Harry offered in a low voice. "She could send word to Dumbledore, or..."

"It would take too long," Tonk cut him off. "Besides, the Order's got faster means of communicating with one another. The only problem is, I doubt the others can make it here in time. We'll just have to improvise!"

Before Harry could ask how, Tonk had rapped him over the head once with her wand rather fiercely. He felt a familiar chill run down him from the tip-top of his head to the toes, like cold egg washing over him. Tonk had just Disilluioned him to where he would blend in with whatever was surrounding him. He supposed the sharp sting of her wand was a way of repremanding him for taking so long. It didn't seem to him like a good idea for the Ministry to confiscate any of his belongings, but mostly he had been concerned about someone finding Rayne's letter.

"Okay," Tonk said, shifting to an exact copy of Harry. "Here's the new plan. The Ministry will leave once they have Harry in their posession, so we're just going to let them think they've taken him. You lot just play along and.."

"Wait!" Harry protested, as the door was nearly forced open. "What if they..."

"No time to argue, Harry!" Tonk snapped. "Get ready to move for the exit the moment they pull away with me. Someone will be waiting for you at the edge of the field behind the Anti-Apparation Line. Got it?"

Harry nodded, then realized no one could see it. "Okay," he said reluctantly. "But what if they hurt you?"

The door burst open before she could say more. Harry moved back a few steps instinctively and watched as several grown wizards in Ministry robes burst through the door. Each of them had wands at the ready, as though preparing to hex anyone that moved. The others must have been thinking along those same lines, for none of Harry's friends moved a muscle.

"It's clear, sir!" one of them called out.

Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister of Magic, stepped through the doors a second later and surveyed the room. His eyes fell immediately on Tonks, who didn't blink the whole time. A smile fell across his face, then. To anyone else, it might have looked almost fatherly, but from where Harry stood in the background, it seemed more like the Minister were leering at him with an almost hungry expression.

"Harry," Scrimgeour said, still grinning boldly. "It's so good to see you. How have you been these last few days?"

"Fine," Tonks replied, coolly. "We were just waiting for Mrs. Weasley to get back so she could take us to King's Cross."

"Really, now? Well, I'm afraid there's been a bit of a change in plans. You see, Dumbledore contacted us, and we're to escort you directly to Hogwarts personally. He seemed to think this was best, given the present situation."

Harry wasn't sure how stupid the Minister thought he was. The way several of the other wizards in the room kept their wands raised at everyone, however, clearly showed what he meant. If the Minister didn't leave with Harry in tow, every one of his friends would be in serious danger. Harry started to open his mouth, but Tonks beat him to it.

"I guess that's alright," Tonks said quickly. "If I have no choice."

The Minister extended a hand, meaning to motion Tonks towards him,, but Tonks walked coldly past without so much as brushing up against Scrimgeour's robe. Her eyes darted back to where Harry stood still, glaringly. The Minister caught where she was looking, and for a moment watched his exact spot furiously. Some of the other wizards began to do the same, but after a moment, he gave up and turned around without another word to anyone else in the room.

"Harry!" Hermione said, once the Ministry officials were safely away. "Harry, are you still in here?"

She began waving her arms around wildly through the air. "I'm over here," he told her, looking out the window as the cars drove down the road. "Should we go after them, though?"

"And do what?" Ron wondered, looking at the kitchen sink next to him as though it were mad.

"Tonk will be alright," Ginny assured him. "The important thing is for you to get past the Anti-Apparation Line now."

"Yes, Harry, you mustn't try and do anything foolish now," Hermione said frantically. "Tonks knew what she was doing, and Dumbledore is probably waiting for you right now."

"You really should listen to her for once, mate." Ron was still looking aimlessly around the kitchen as he spoke. "There's no point in you going after her now, when they've got such a head on you already."

All three of them sounded as though they had prepared this speech in advance. Any other time, Harry might have protested. He still felt torn at the idea of leaving while Tonks was being taken away by the Ministry in his place. A few months ago, he would have stormed out the door in a blaze to try and stop her, and have to be restrained by everyone. Things were different now, though. He had seen the whole magical world in a new and dangerous light.

"You're right," he told her, straightening up. "If anyone can slip away from that lot, it's her. She's a Metamorphmagus, after all!"

Hermione blinked. "Right..."

"I should go now," he told them, stepping towards the door. "See you all at King's Cross, alright?"

"Sure," Ron nodded, watching the door open with a perplexed expression. "Take care of yourself, mate."

"Bye!"

Harry tore off through the backyard of the Burrow towards the field in the distance. The fence blocking his path slowed him down no more than a second as he lept spryly over it. He was by no means a sprinter, but the though of getting away as fast as he could motivated him. By now, the Ministry might have figured out who Tonks really was. This meant he needed to hurry. The trunk now tucked safely in his pocket gave him some strange comfort. He found himself pawing it every few minutes through the fabric of his jeans.

A light feeling went through him as he crossed the Line. Harry paused for a moment to catch his breath and look around. There was no one else here besides him. His feet made impressions in the ground, the colors of the grass changing little by little as he shifted positions slightly.

A loud crack came from behind him. Harry thought for a dim second that someone had Apparated behind him. Before he could turn, however, pain shot through his body. The Disillusionment Charm shattered as his whole body went numb. Harry felt himself fall forward as everything went dark.


	2. Chapter 2 Once Again

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 2

_**Once Again**_

by Ri-kun

Harry's eyes fluttered open slowly. Professor Lupin's face blurred in front of him for a moment before coming clearly into view. A grim expression covered his face as he leaned down over him.

"Harry!" Lupin said rather loudly. "Harry, can you hear me?"

"I believe he will be alright now, Remus," said another voice somewhere behind him. "You may move away from him now."

Harry found he could somewhat move his arms and legs. Raising up slightly, he spotted Professor Dumbledore standing a few steps away, observing him. "I only meant to break the Disillusion Charm around you," Lupin said, sadly. "Tonks was supposed to be here with you when I arrived, so I needed to be sure."

He glanced down at his wand in disgust. "Forgive me, Harry."

"It's alright," he told him, standing up the rest of the way. Professor Lupin did not meet his eyes. Dumbledore was keeping a safe distance from Harry, as well. The last time he had been alone with either of them had not gone very well. Harry had shouted at each of them in kind about different things, but it was obviously making the air between them tense.

"Obviously, Remus," Dumbledore said gently. "Things did not go so well at the Burrow. I am guess that is the reason you came all the way out here by yourself, Harry?"

"Yes... sir," Harry ammended. "The Minister of Magic showed up while Tonks was trying to explain things to me. She took my place and left with them. I hope that was alright."

"I shouldn't be surprised," Dumbledore mused. "The Ministry is devoting every bit of their energy towards keeping you contained. I fear they may see you as much of a threat as Voldemort himself. I gather Tonks was the one who placed the Disillusionment Charm over you?"

"Yes, sir." Lupin still wasn't looking at him.

"Very well," said Dumbledore, stepping foward finally. "You did the right thing, Harry. Now we must ensure that nothing severe occurs to her while she remains in the Ministry's hands for now. I trust she will find her own means of escape. After that, we will deal with the problem as best we can. Remus, thank you for coming all the way out here on such short notice."

"Right," Lupin said, smiling grimly. Dumbledore was clearly dismissing him, and he seemed relieved to be going. "I should be getting back then."

Professor Lupin was suddenly gone with a loud crack. Dumbledore placed an arm around Harry's shoulders as he led him on a space. The headmaster did not say a word for several minutes, during which time Harry wondered where they were going. He had assumed Dumbledore meant to take him directly to King's Cross, or if not that, then straight on to Hogwarts. Neither seemed to be the case, though, and finally Harry could stand it no longer.

"Professor Dumbledore," he said, looking down at the shriveled hand. "Where are we going?"

"Hmm," replied the headmaster almost absentmindedly. The gnarled hand gave a twitch as he raised up. It might have been just Harry's imagination, but he thought for a moment that Dumbledore had been staring in the same place.

"Forgive me, Harry," Dumbledore said, looking tired for a moment. "I was lost in my own thoughts. I'm sure you are curious as to our destination, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Only natural, after all. To be sure, the plan was to take you directly to King's Cross, but since things have already gone slightly ary this morning, I was wondering if you'd be willing to do me a rather large favor before we head on?"

Harry couldn't imagine what Dumbledore might need from him, but he nodded his assent. "There is someone I would like for you to meet, Harry," Dumbledore went on, leading him down through an unseen path in the woods. "An old colleague of mine from back before I took over as headmaster. I've been trying for the time to convince her to return to her former post. As I'm sure you've guessed, we once again have a vacancy in the Hogwarts staff. So far, she has declined the chance to be reinstated."

Dumbledore paused as he stepped over a tree root. "I'm hoping you might be able to tip the scale towards my advantage."

Harry wasn't sure how, but continued walking along down the path. It looked as though no one had been through here in some time. Trees stretched out overhead where they walked, almost completely blotting out the sun. There were leaves scattered everywhere, making it difficult to spot holes in the ground. More than once, Harry lost his footing, and only Dumbledore's secure arm prevented him from falling.

Finally, they came upon a small cottage. Harry had to stare at it for a moment to make sure it was really there. The whole place looked as though it had been jammed into the woods as far as it could go. The forest likewise was on a mission to eject the invader as soon as possible. There was practically no front lawn, or for that matter, a lawn of any kind encircling it. The cottage stood at a full two stories, yet the wood around it gave off the impression that it was smaller. It had the look of a place that had once been quite upstanding, now slightly gone to seed from lack of care.

"Come now, Harry." Dumbledore marched on ahead of him. "Let us see if anyone is home at the moment."

Harry followed suite. Dumbledore rapped his bony knuckles against the heavy-laden door and waited. He seemed to be using his injured hand as little as possible. Harry wondered guiltily for a moment if it could ever be repaired. There didn't seem to be much chance of that, since he was sure Dumbledore would have found one by now.

Dumbledore knocked once again, and hummed patiently. Harry wasn't quite sure what they were waiting for. It was obvious no one was home at the moment, but the headmaster merely winked at him and drew out his wand.

"I suppose there's no other way of doing it," he said, waving it slightly. "Might you step back just a bit? Molly would have my hide if you came to injury, even the slightest, while in my care."

Harry complied, and Dumbledore nodded his thanks before pointing at the doorway. He expected it to swing forward without so much as a creep, but the headmaster promptly blasted the obstruction right off it's hinges. Pieces of wood came splintering off, just barely missing him. Harry raised up in alarm as Dumbledore observed his handcraft with a satisfied smile.

"That should let her know we're here, at least," he muttered softly. "Now then, Harry. After you, if you'd please."

Harry swallowed, and watched Dumbledore closely for a moment. He realized that he hadn't checked to make sure if this was indeed his real headmaster. Dumbledore was just standing there, infinitely patient as always, waiting for Harry to make the first move. Mad-Eye Moody would have called him careless. Still, if he was standing next to a Death Eater, they were doing a poor job of keeping themselves hidden. Whatever Dumbledore had in mind, he wasn't going to find out just standing there.

The inside was much better kept, if slightly cluttered. Magical objects of all sorts were lying around left and right, hanging from the walls, and even whizzing overhead as they coughed, sputtered, and banged quietly. This was clearly the home of a powerful witch, given the level of pink and purple decor. Silk drapers hung overhead and around the walls. The furniture was very elaborate, and kept changing hues each time he looked away. Yet the room had the feel that no one had lived here for months. A plate of biscuits had been left on the coffee table, half-eaten. Next to it was a cup of tea, grown ice cold.

"It appears we've arrived too late," Dumbledore said mornfully, coming up behind him. "Looks as though she's already taken off."

Harry drew back as Dumbledore motioned for him to stand at his side. "Who lives here, Professor?" he asked, unable to reign in his curiosity any longer.

"Mika Darkholme," the headmaster said at once. "She and I both taught at Hogwarts together. The year I was promoted to Headmaster, she left and fled to parts unknown. I've only just recently tracked her down. But it would appear she beat me to the punch. I fear I am getting slow in my age, you see."

Dumbledore seemed to be trying to tell him something. Harry just nodded, at waited for some kind of signal. "Well, we might as well be off," said Dumbledore after a moment. As he turned, the headmaster pointed his wand towards a corner. There was a gust of wind, and suddenly a woman was standing there looking quite harried.

"I should have known you wouldn't give up so easily, Albus." The woman, Harry assumed it was Darkholme, give Professor Dumbledore a glare as he smiled knowingly at her. Harry spotted an Invisibility Cloak lying not far away, and put it together.

"You knew I was there the whole time, I assume," she went on, folding her arms.

"It was always your axium that the best places to hide are right in plain sight," Dumbledore replied. "I knew if you hadn't fled just yet, there was only one part of the house you could be in."

"Nice job with blasting down my door. The Ministry is going to have a field day when they get wind of this."

Her mentioning the Ministry got Harry's attention. As she stepped out of the corner into proper lightly, he realized just how beautiful she was. Her hair was a greyish color, not really silver or white, but something rather akin to slade. It hung freely down to her waist, framing her entire body like a wide cloak. There was an ageless quality to her as she moved, as though she had seen far too much, yet remained largely unaffected by it. Harry felt his throat run dry as she came closer towards him.

"And who do we have here?" she said, looking his way. "I don't recall you being the sort to play favorites, Albus. That was really more..."

Her eyes widened as they landed on his scar. Harry forgot that his new haircut left it displayed for all the world to see. It was going to take some getting used to, but he still hadn't gone back to laying his hair flat yet. Unconsciously, he raised a hand to smooth it flat, but then stopped himself. The woman named Darkholme narrowed her eyes shrewdly for a second, then turned back to glare at Dumbledore once more.

"I suppose I should offer you a seat, at least. Come!"

Harry passed by what looked like a stone bowl with runes carved in it. It looked much like a Pensieve, but the contents were water rather than the silvery mist that contained people's memories. As Harry peered into it, he thought the water shimmered for a moment. There was an image of something he couldn't quite make out. He blinked, and it was gone.

"Harry..." Dumbledore called out.

"Sorry, Professor!" he said, jumping back.

"I see you've taken an interest my collection," Darkholme noted as he took a seat in the nearest armchair. "You're a curious one, aren't you?"

"I'm really sorry," he began, but Darkholme waved a hand at him.

"I would have expected nothing less of one of his pupils," she replied, glancing Dumbledore's way. "It's called a Gazing Bowl, just in case you were wondering. People who look into it can gain insight into their true character. I sometimes use it when decisions are weighing me down."

Harry glanced back over to where the Gazing Bowl rested on the table. "It can show you the future?"

"Not the future," she assured him, offering him the plate of biscuits. "Just insight into who a person truly is. Mind you, Divination is a facinating subject for me, but I've never had the talent nor the gift to be a true seer. The Gazing Bowl just helps a person find perspective with themselves."

Harry bit into his biscuit and thought for a moment. It had surely just been his mind playing tricks on him. Hermione would have thought he was being silly, trusting something like that. And Ron would most certain laugh.

"So," she said, turning back towards Dumbledore again. "I suppose you're here to make me the same offer as last time."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "I haven't the slightly idea what you mean, dear. Young Harry here needed an escort to King's Cross, and since the Ministry is so tied up with Death Eater leads, I volunteered. We had a little time to spare, so I thought I would stop by. This is nothing more than a humble social call."

"Humble social callers do not blast down somebody's front door," Darkholme snapped at him. "And from what I've heard, all the Ministry cares about these days is spending their waking moments tracking down this one!"

She pointed straight at Harry. "And you've been buggering me day and night with Owls demanding I take up my old position. How did you manage to find me after all this time? The Department of Relocation doesn't even know where I am!"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, they do not at the moment. But think on this for just a bit, if you would. If I could find you this easily, then so could the Ministry eventually. And the moment they know, so will others. As I recall, you've kept yourself hidden this long so because of a certain person's unhealthy interest in you. What do you think will happen once word gets out that your location has been compromised?"

"I'll just have to move," she replied curtly.

"Lord Voldemort will follow you to the ends of the earth if he must. You know that."

"And you're here to offer me my old job back after what happened before out of the goodness of your heart. Is that it?"

"Hogwarts is perfectly safe," he assured her. "And there are new security measures being placed at this very moment to ensure the safety of both the students and faculty. You will be under my complete protection."

Darkholme eyed him suspiciously. "And the price?"

"My dear," Dumbledore sighed. "I merely need you to fulfill a vacant position. Nothing more."

"There's always something more with you, Albus." She paused then, as though about to say something else, but then glanced Harry's way. "What do you suppose people will say when word gets out? Wizards have long memories, as you should well recall. No one will want me around their children once that old scandal comes out again."

"People have much larger things to worry about these days," he responded flatly. "In fact, I dare say your particular brand of bad news will be a welcome change!"

It was Darkholme's turn to cock an eyebrow at him. "Let me ask you one thing," she said, glancing Harry's way again. "And I'm not saying I've agreed to anything yet! But, why is it you want me back so badly? Surely there are others qualified enough to fill in."

"Mayhaps," said Dumbledore. "But out of everyone I ever knew who encountered Lord Voldemort, you were the only one who remained completely unafraid of him. If there is anyone brave enough to return to Hogwarts now, it is you, Mika."

Darkholme stared straight at Harry now without pretext. There was a sad look in her eyes now, as though she were remembering something from long ago. "You're wrong, Albus," she whispered. "I was afraid. Very afraid."

Silence followed, in which no one attempted to speak. Finally, Darkholme set down her cup and stood up. Harry watched as she drifted over to the window and peered outside. "You both need to leave now," she said curtly, not facing them. "I have a lot of packing to do before nightfall. It will be tight, but I expect I can be there before the Sorting begins."

Darkholme turned to stare where Dumbledore sat. "You remember how much I always enjoyed seeing that."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled then, and he smiled triumphantly. The seriousness that had hung around him a moment ago evaporated as he stood up. "Thank you, Professor Darkholme. We shall be on our way now, so you can tend to things. Come along now, Harry!"

"Just a moment!" Darkholme called out as Harry headed after him. Harry turned back around as his new Professor took him by the shoulders. His body stood rigid as she gazed into his eyes. Her own were black pools deep enough to reflect himself in them. Harry suddenly felt a little warm.

"You are a handsome one, aren't you?" she said, running a hand down his face. "I suppose Albus does know me too well."

She looked past him to where Dumbledore was watching from the doorway. "Well played, Professor."

Dumbledore merely nodded. "I suppose we'll be seeing one another all too soon," she said, looking back at Harry again. "Take care of yourself until then, and keep an eye out for that one. He's a tricky one!"

"Indeed," Dumbledore said, nodding. "Mika, your servant."

Harry followed after the headmaster out the front door, feeling more than a little bit confused. He had certainly missed something very big between the two of them, but also suspected that Dumbledore wasn't going to tell him about it just yet. Dumbledore walked ahead of Harry as they traveled a little ways back down the path that had led them here, and stopped.

"This will do," he stated, extending an arm towards Harry. "I'm sure you've never Apparated before today. As you haven't taken your exams for it yet, I shall be assisting you. Simply take me by the arm and hold on tightly. Our next stop will be King's Cross. I'm sure you would prefer to travel the rest of your journey with your friends, rather than listen to an old codger."

Harry took hold of Dumbledore's arm and waited. "Got a firm grip, Harry? Good!"

What followed next was a sensation rather like swallowing a bottle of SkeleGrow before being turned inside out. Harry opened his mouth to gasp for air as the pain hit him, but his lungs felt flattened and full of sharp needles. The forest had gone black all around him, and the only thing he could do was tighten his grip on Dumbledore's arm.

And then, as suddenly as it came, the pain was gone. "We're here," Dumbledore said gently. "I must apologize for the rough trip, Harry. It has been some time since I aiding another in Apparating over a long distance, and the first trip can take some getting used to."

Harry's mind was little more than mush. How could wizards travel this way if it felt so horrible?

"It will pass," Dumbledore assured him. "Give it a minute or so. The effects vary from one person to the next."

Gradually, Harry did feel a little better. "Where are we, Professor?" he asked, gazing around aimlessly.

"King's Cross," Dumbledore answered at once. "Hagrid should be arriving any second now with the remainder of your school things, if I have timed everything right."

As if on cue, a massive, lumbering figure came towards them wheeling a cart. Among the haplessly stacked items was an owl's cage, from which a pale Snow Owl let out a shriek as she spotted Harry.

"Hedwig!" Harry said happily, rubbing her beak through the wire. "Hagrid!"

Hagrid's arms nearly crushed Harry as he was swept up in the half-giant's hug. "Good to see you again, Harry. Hope yer been staying out of trouble this time around?"

"Sure," he nodded, grinning.

"Evrything's ready to go," Hagrid told Dumbledore. "'Ere's your train ticket. Ron and Hermione should be already on the platform, waiting for you. I already told 'em Dumbledore would have you here before the Express leaves."

"Thank you, Hagrid," Dumbledore said sincerely. "I'll be off now, Harry. Have a safe journey!"

Dumbledore was suddenly gone, leaving Harry standing there alone with Hagrid. "I must be off, meself," Hagrid said. "Dumbledore's needing me to take care of some things around before the start o yer term and all. Top secret, but I suspect you could still come round to see me, if ye'd like."

"Sure thing," Harry nodded.

"Listen to me jawing about. You've got a train to catch!"

Harry waved one last time as Hagrid walked away. The barrier that led to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters was just up ahead. He fumbled for the trunk tucked away in his pocket, still shrunk down by Tonks. It occured to him then that he had no way to unshrink it before reaching Hogwarts, not without breaking the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Magic. It could stay in his pocket for now, though. Hermione would probably know how to undo it. Making a mental note to ask her, he built up a head of steam as the barrier drew closer. Closing his eyes, he waited to pass through the stone wall.

Instead, his trolley slammed hard into it, rocking to the side and spilling it's contents as he himself was thrown off. Hedwig's cries rang through the train station as he struggled to untangle himself and get to her. Picking himself up, Harry tried to remain inconspicious as he gathered together his things. It took several minutes to calm Hedwig down. During that time, a number of people paused to stare at him as they passed by.

Harry couldn't believe this was happening. It seemed like a strange sort of joke, but pressing his hand against the stone wall confirmed it. The barrier to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters had sealed itself.

Again!


	3. Chapter 3 Murder on the Hogwarts Express

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 3

_**Murder on the Hogwarts Express**_

by Ri-kun

Harry wasn't sure what to do. The last time this had happened, he and Ron wound up taking his Dad's flying Ford to Hogwarts on their own, which had pretty much ended in disaster. Harry was a little more grown now to realize he needed to send Hedwig for help. He was just trying to coax her out from her cage without much success (Hedwig seemed to think his smashing into the barrier was his fault, and refused to budge!) when Hagrid came rushing back up to meet him.

"Been lookin' for ya, Harry," he said, breathing hard. "Dumbledore asked that I remind you there's been some new security placed over the Platform Barrier. Seems you can't get through without some magical password that's been written on the front o' yer ticket."

Hagrid then looked down more closely. "Blimey, Harry! What happened?"

"Nothing," he said, irritably. "Couldn't have mentioned that earlier?"

"Sorry bout that. Hope it wasn't anything too important."

"No, thank you, Hagrid." Harry opened up his train ticket and scanned the paper. There, at the very bottom in bold lettering, was the word_ 'Sesame'_. Blinking, he put the ticket away and faced the barrier.

"Sesame," he uttered, feeling foolish.

The barrier appeared unchanged to him. Hagrid leaned forward to see over his shoulder. "It should be fine, now," he told him. "Best be off! See you soon, Harry."

Harry proceeded again towards the barrier at a more cautious pace, but this time both he and the trolley passed through without a problem. The air was suddenly filled with the sound of a train getting ready to depart over the cries and chatter of hundreds of Hogwarts students. Harry moved through the crowd searching for sights of Ron or Hermione as he loaded his things up. He supposed one or both would find him after he boarded the train, at least. Ginny would surely look for him after a bit...

Turning around, he saw someone moving frantically towards him. Smiling, he waved as Mrs. Weasley came rushing up to him with Mr. Weasley right behind. "Oh, Harry!" she cried out, pulling him into a suffocating hug to rival one of Hagrid's. "We've all been so worried about you? Thank goodness you made it here in time."

"I was with Dumbledore," he tried to explain as the train gave a whistle.

"What?" she asked, absentmindedly. "Oh, good then. Ron told us what happened with Tonks. Dumbledore thought something like this would happen, but at least you're safe for the time being. Everyone's waiting for you over here, Harry. Come along, then."

"Good to see you, Harry!" Arthur Weasley said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Hurry up! They'll be wanting to have a look at you before you go."

Harry wondered who Mr. Weasley meant, but as they pushed their way through the crowd, he spotted Bill and Fleur, along with Charlie Weasley standing around with the others. Ron spotted him coming before the others and pointed him out to a very worried-looking Hermione, who threw her arms around his neck the instant he got close enough. Ron was reserved enough to settle for shaking hands, yet Harry caught a glare from him once Bill and Charlie both said hello. Ginny was last, and gave him a brief squeeze before pulling away. Her cheeks were slightly red against the steam from the Express.

"Are you all here, then?" Molly asked, peering at each of them.

"For the last time, Mum," Charlie said, grinning. "Yes. It's only these four who are leaving this year. Bill and I have already had our turn."

"Mind you, I wouldn't say no to seeing Hogwarts again," Bill replied, glancing towards the train. "Maybe I should have volunteered to help guard the place? I wonder if Dumbledore still needs a few more part-timers..."

"But zat would give joo no time to plan for zee wedding!" Fleur responded, loftily.

"Of course," Molly replied, curtly. "And besides, Dumbledore has everything under control. You two are better off right where you are."

Molly cast a fish eye towards Fleur as she said this. "At any rate, have you got everything you need?"

"Yes, Mum!" Ron replied loudly, clearly hoping to avoid her usual mollycoddling. "The train's getting ready to leave. We need to get on now. Hermione and I still have prefect duties."

"Oh, right."

Harry thought that perhaps that were the only thing in the world that could make Ron's mother back away. Arthur Weasley locked eyes with his son for a moment knowingly, but smiled nonetheless.

"Harry, might I have a word with you for a second?"

Arthur motioned him to a quiet corner away from the crowd. "See, the thing is Harry..."

"I'm not going to leave Hogwarts," he said to Arthur at once. "Ron and I have no intention of going into the Forbidden Forest again, and I won't be sneaking off to Hogsmeade, if that's what you were going to tell me."

"What?" Arthur said. "Oh, good. That's good, I mean, but it isn't what I was going to say."

"Oh?" Harry wondered what else there could be as the train gave it's final whistle for students to board.

"What I mean is, Harry..." Arthur stumbled. "Well, things have been so busy lately that I haven't... Well, that is, Molly asked me to... I mean, I've been meaning to sit down with you about..."

The train whistled, and began to pull away from the platform slowly. "Harry, you are coming back to the Burrow for holiday again this year, aren't you?"

Harry looked at him. "Of course. Why?"

"Good. Well, I was hoping we could have a sit down. Just... talk for a bit."

Arthur looked very uncomfortable standing there. "Arthur, what are you doing?" Molly called out to them. "Harry, the train is leaving! Hurry up!"

"I've got to go!" he said, rushing off. "I mean, sure. I'll talk with you then."

"Bye, then!" Arthur called out. "And try not to..."

Whatever Arthur Weasley was trying to warn him against was lost in the roar of the train as it picked up speed. Harry managed to grab on to one of the cars as it went by, jerking him up off the ground. Harry pulled himself through the door and slammed it shut behind him. Standing in front of him were Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, looking at little taken back.

"We thought you weren't going to make it?" Ginny said. "What was Dad going on for?"

"I..." Harry paused, catching his breath. "I'm not real sure, honestly. He wanted to know if I'd be coming home with you for Christmas and all, saying he wanted to talk with me about something."

"Dad knows you're coming home for Christmas," Ron said, scratching his head. "Mum wouldn't have it any other way. What's that all about?"

"No idea."

"We'll figure it out later," Hermione said, seizing Ron by the arm. "Come on, Ron. We've got prefect duties up front!"

"What? I really have to do that stuff again this year?" he groaned, following after her. "I only said that to get Mum to quiet down!"

Harry grinned as he and Ginny both watched Ron being dragged off to the front car where the prefects met. Ginny stood there for a second just watching him, not saying a word. He noticed for the first time that she'd gotten rather pretty. Her hair was pulled back away from her face now, framing it nicely. She was looking at him with a smile on her face that made his stomach lurch just a little. Gone was the little girl who had cried as she chased after the Hogwarts Express while it carried him off to school for the first time. Of course, he had always assumed she was sad because Ron was leaving without her.

"Hey, it's Mary Shoewitter," Ginny said abruptly, pointing.

Harry frowned and turned to see a rather dumpy girl with plain brown hair that was somehow even more bushy than Hermione's. She still had her trunk with her, which was causing an awful lot of traffic as she dragged it down the train car. It looked as though she was having problems with it.

"Who is she?" Harry asked, as several girls giggled at her.

"She's a Hufflepuff," Ginny told him. "I heard her saying at the end of last year how her parents were planning on sending her abroad to New Salem. Guess they must have changed their minds. I wonder why she still has her trunk with her, though."

"Let's give her a hand, then."

The strange girl called Mary was silent the whole time as Harry and Ginny hefted her trunk up and carried it to the back. She kept her face turned away from them as they laid it up above an empty seat, but Harry heard her mutter a word of thanks as they walked away. She seemed to be incredibly shy. Harry was reminded somewhat of Neville Longbottom back when they'd first met. Mary was definitely cut from the same type of mold.

"Mary's always been a little shy," Ginny explained to him as they searched for a compartment of their own. "She hardly ever talks to anybody."

"So I noticed," Harry mused, following her. Most of the compartments were filling up already. It looked as though he would be sitting near the back again this year.

"She's actually really nice," Ginny went on. "Oh, here's an empty one, Harry."

Ginny led him through an open compartment that for whatever reason hadn't been filled up yet. She sat across from him and folded her hands in her lap, watching him closely. Harry, meanwhile, was too busy staring out the window to notice. The train would take the rest of the day to arrive. He wished he had taken Rayne's letter out of his trunk first. Mind you, the trunk might return to it's original size on it's own if he tried to open it.

Something occured to him as he fought to extract it from his pocket. "Aren't you still seeing Dean Thomas?" he asked.

"Hmm?" Ginny looked up suddenly. "Oh, we broke up over the summer. He's been writing to me lately about wanting to get back together, though. Honestly, I'm hiding in here in case he finds me. I don't want to talk to him right now."

The trunk wasn't opening up. "What about your other friends?"

"What about them?" she asked, point-blank. "We'll catch up once we get to Hogwarts. Unless you're trying to get rid of me or something?"

Ginny grinned as she said this. Harry returned her smile with one of his own and put the miniature trunk away. "No way!" he swore. He would just have to ask Hermione about a way to unshrink it later. "I just thought you might want to sit somewhere else, in case people were still saying I'm crazy. Or Death Eaters came through the window."

"I'll take my chances. Anyway, shouldn't I be more worried about vampires?"

"Not in the middle of the day," he answered. "At least, I hope not!"

"There was a loud thump against the window as somebody passed by, but the door didn't slide open. "I really don't think you have to worry about what people will say, Harry," Ginny told him earnestly. "People know the truth now. You haven't been lying about You-Know-Who coming back. You're a hero again!"

"Great," he muttered, glancing out the window again.

"What I mean is..." Ginny started, but then the door did slide open, revealing a rather harried Neville Longbottom clutching his ever-frantic toad. Behind him stood Luna Lovegood, wearing what looked like a new pair of spectacles from the Quibbler.

"Harry," Neville breathed. "Can we bunk up in here with you? Everywhere else is full."

"You have to ask?" he said, moving over for them to come through.

"Hello, Harry," Luna waved, smiling.

"Nice glasses," he grinned. "Are these a new pair?"

"Yes," she replied, taking a seat next to Ginny. "Daddy says these will allow me to see Wurkspats so I can keep them away. See?" And from her bad she extracted what looked like a rather large flyswatter. "I can smack them with these, so no one will suffer from light-headedness or random thoughts about mayonaise."

"Keep up the good work, then," he smiled, encouragingly.

There was another smack on the door, this time much louder, that made it shake slightly. Everyone turned. "What's going on out there?" Harry wondered, looking at Neville blankly.

"You don't know?" Luna asked him, mildly.

"No. What?"

"There's..." Neville began, embarassed. "Well, there's actually this whole band of girls outside. I think they're trying to get your attention."

"People were saying this compartment was reserved for you earlier," Luna added, calmly. "I got here much earlier than expected, hoping I might talk with you. There were several fifth-years standing around it, warning everyone away. I think I recognized some of them when we passed by. They didn't look too happy with Neville and I coming in here."

"Dumbledore wouldn't want me to have a reserved seat," Harry stated. "So, what were you wanting to talk with me about?"

"Oh, nothing," Luna replied. "It's just been rather boring over the summer. I don't have anyone to write to, and my father is real busy working with the Quibbler these days. I was worried you might be too busy to talk to us anymore."

Harry was puzzled. "Why wouldn't I have time to talk with you?"

The door shook again. This time, it bore some vague resemblance of a knock, though, and managed to not rattle it right off the hinges. Harry stood up, and was greeted by a mob of giggling girls at least a year or two below him.

"Hi!" one practically screamed in his face.

"Hi, Harry!" another waved.

"Hi."

"Um, hello," he replied, swallowing. Harry didn't recognize any of them, but they certainly knew who he was. "Can I help you?"

"Ask him!"

"You ask him."

"Oh, please. We were wondering," one began, before dissolving into another giggle fit.

"They want to know if you will come sit with them instead of us," Luna called out behind him. "I overhead them talking before," she explained, when he turned around to look at her.

Several of the girls were glaring towards Luna murderously. "Right," one boldly declared. "You don't have to sit with any of them."

She made it sound like Harry was doing something repulsive. "I want to sit here," he replied flatly. "These are my friends."

The girls didn't look like they believed him, but Harry didn't wait around to hear anymore. Shutting the door again, he sat back down in his seat as the others took turns watching him with bemused expressions.

"What?" he wondered.

"There's something very different about you, Harry," Luna said, peering over her spectacles at him. "Did you meet someone over the summer?"

Harry visibly stiffened, and scrambled for a way to change the subject. Luna once again was demonstrating her ability to be bluntly honest about certain things. He had never gotten used to her perceptiveness, either.

"Don't worry about it," she said at once, as though reading his thoughts. "If it's something you can't talk about right now, that's fine. Girls just expect you to hang around with people that are cooler than us."

"You are cool," he said at once. "Besides, I'd rather be in here with you than outside."

"Thank you," she said in turn, nodding. "I like being in here with everyone, as well. It's rather like having friends."

"Speaking of which," Neville spoke up. Harry was grateful for the interruption, since he hadn't thought of a proper response to what Luna had said. "Will we be doing the DA meetings again?"

"Oh, yes!" Luna squealed. "Please say we are!"

Harry hadn't given one thought to it. "I dunno," he admitted. "Guess it really depends on the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, doesn't it?"

"Whoever it is, they can't be much worse than Umbridge," Ginny mused, glancing at the others. "Right?"

"I've met her," Harry told them, then added when everyone stared, "Dumbledore took me to see her. She doesn't seem so bad, at least at first glance. We might not even need to do the DA this year."

"Of course we will!" Neville declared, looking at Harry as though he were mad. "The whole reason you started it was to prepare us for what was out there. None of us would've survived the Department of Mysteries without what you taught us, Harry."

Harry swallowed. "We all nearly got killed. I doubt I deserve much credit."

Neville scoffed. "You should hear what my Gran says. She couldn't stop talking about you to those Daily Prophet people when they came by to ask her for comments. My name got worked in, of course, but it's all really about you."

He said the last part with such a quiet ferocity that Harry felt the need to protest. Ginny beat him to it, though.

"We all might have died if we hadn't taken Harry's advice," said Ginny, as Luna nodded her affirmation. "And I do think they're right, Harry. You should definitely keep the DA going. No matter how good the new professor is, we could always use extra practice."

"What's she like?" Luna had gone back to glancing through her copy of the Qubbler, but Harry assumed she was asking him.

"I really don't know," he said, thinking back to the earlier encounter. "Dumbledore said he needed my help in convincing her to take to position. All I did was sit across from her and eat biscuits, though."

"You know how Dumbledore is," Neville said cryptically, as the food cart came rumbling past them. "He probably had some plan all along. Thank goodness, I'm starving!"

The corridor was still packed with a throng of giggling Hogwarts girls, who spent the whole time he was there buying Chocolate Frogs for everyone pointing and snickering. He sincerely hoped the whole year didn't go like this. It would be worse than when they all thought he was a delusional liar! Shoving two Galleons into the old witch's hands, he turned before she could make change for him and shut the door loudly.

"They are getting rather annoying," Luna noted, innocently.

"You're more popular than ever," Ginny added, seriously. "Hermione was right. They've definitely made the turn-around when it comes to you."

Thankfully, the conversation began to turn towards topics that had nothing to do with him. As Harry listened in on everyone, munching a licorice wand periodically, he found his mind wondering to what everyone had just said. Already, his mind was preparing ahead as to what new defensive magics and charms might be good to cover once their schedules had started. He was grateful to have something else to think about after the nightmare of these past several weeks. It was also a great way to keep himself from drifting to thoughts about where Rayne might be. As if in response, the weight of his shrunken truck shifted slightly, poking him in the leg.

Afternoon wore on, bringing with it darker clouds and a drastic change in the landscape outside their window. It was around then that Hermione and Ron finally showed up to their compartment. Harry and the others actually heard them coming several minutes before Hermione threw the door open. She and Ron were apparently having a heated argument with each other and several of the girls outside at the same time.

"Honestly, Ron! Please move, we're both prefects!"

"Hermione," Ron protested, apparently trodding on someone's foot. "Shove off, then! None of you should be in the corridors now!"

"Anyone would have known better than to say something as childish as that," she went on, stomping into the compartment and plopping down between Luna and Ginny, who promptly made a space for her.

"It wasn't my fault," he protested, shutting the door behind him and sitting next to Harry. "Hello, Neville. Have a good summer?"

"Don't try to change the subject," Hermione warned in a dangerous voice.

"I wasn't! Can't I say hello to people?"

"Hello Ronald," Luna said, glancing up over her spectacles.

"Hello Luna," he waved absently, then gave her a proper look. "Nice glasses."

"Ron!"

"What?" he said innocently.

Harry was almost reluctant to ask what Ron had done to make Hermione so angry. She definitely looked ready to attack the first thing that caught her ire. Grasping for a way to tactfully change the subject, he ran with the first thing that come to mind.

"How did you know where to find us?" he blurt out.

Hermione eyed him. "At least twenty girls from no less than all four houses are camped outside in the corridor just a few feet away from this compartment, Harry. Who else but you could be in here?"

Ron snickered, but gave him a look to show he was grateful for the distraction. "Yeah, mate," he nodded. "Even I could figure that one out. You're going to be beating the women away from you with a stick this year."

Now it was Ginny's turn to glare at Ron. "What did I say?" he wondered.

No one said anything. Harry wondered for a moment if he shouldn't tell the rest of his friends about what had happened over the summer. A part of him sincerely wanted them to know, but a lump formed in his throat the moment he considered saying anything. He just wasn't ready to talk about it, yet.

"They've got prefects doing regular patrols through the castle this year," Hermione told them. "We have to check in with teachers and everything, and let anyone know if someone has gone missing. The Head Boy and Girl already had lists of the new security and defensive spells that have been put in. That was just about the only time Malfoy ever paid any attention..."

"Smiley git," Ron grumbled. "He got to sleep through most of it. Nobody was telling him to stay awake." Ron glanced over Hermione's way. "Unlike someone I know."

Hermione ignored him. "This year's going to be even busier than last. Oh, and Harry, no less than ten people stopped me on our way back here to ask about the Defense Association. Half of them were girls, and I don't think a single one of them were in the group last year."

"A few grabbed at me on the way back, too," Ron added. "Mostly, they just wanted to ask questions about you, and to see if I could get them an autograph. How about it, then? We could open up a booth and charge two sickles a piece for a signed photo. Colin Creevy would probably agree to do the pictures for free!"

Hermione was doing a rather good job of trying to burn a hole through Ron's skull at the moment, and Harry suddenly had the feeling he knew what had gotten Hermione so upset in the first place. Luckily, the train gave a rather sharp lurch at that moment going around a steep curve, and he was saved from another of her snippets. As things settled down again, Ron began sniffing the air suspiciously.

"At any rate," Hermione went on. "Are you planning on doing the DA again?"

"We'll see," he said quickly, as Ron kept right on sniffing. "Ron, what's wrong?"

"Doesn't anybody else smell that?" he wondered, looking Neville's way.

"Oh, sorry about that!" he quickly apologized, looking down at his feet.

"It's not Neville," Luna said at once. "I've been smelling something odd for a while now. It kind of reminds me of the way a Crumple-Horned Snorkack smells after it's first shedding season. Father has often described the way it..."

"Right," Hermione bit in, cutting her off. "Thank you, but I don't think this is exactly the same thing."

"It's coming from overhead," Ginny said, raising up out of her seat. "On the luggage rail."

Harry looked up and saw for the first time a large packaged wrapped in what looked like an old, ratty blanket. Whatever it was had to be very big and lumpy, given the odd angle in which it jutted out in all directions. As Ginny reached for it, he began to get a very bad feeling, and moved to stop her. However, at that moment, the train decided to lurch yet again. Ginny was thrown off balance and wound up landed in Harry's arms, which sent them both back onto the seat in an awkward pile. Ron was smacked across the face by accident in the process, and began shouting that Ginny had broken his nose. The lumpy blanket and it's contents, meanwhile, spilled out from the overhead rail and landed with a rather loud thud at their feet, unrolling itself in the process.

"Bloody hell!" Ron screamed.

Luna's eyes were the size of dinner plates as she stared. Hermione instinctively jerked her feet up onto the seat and recoiled in horror. Harry untangled himself from Ginny as best he could, apologizing in the process, only to wince in disgust and sympathy as he saw what it was.

"Harry, is that..."

It was, indeed, Stan Shunpike. His body lay cold and rigid on the floor, unmoving. The skin had taken on the rather shallow, pale look of one who had been dead for several hours. Someone had murdered poor Stan, and left his body above their compartment for hours on end as they talked blissfully.

"Could someone open the door?" Ron begged weakly. "I think I'm about to lose something over here."


	4. Chapter 4 Overheard Underneath

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 4

_**Overheard Underneath**_

by Ri-kun

Nobody made a move. It looked from Harry's point of view as though they were waiting for him to say something. Ron had turned a rather nasty shade of pale green, while Neville acted as though he were fighting back the urge to faint. On the other side, none of the girls were fairing better. Ginny, of all them, had surprisingly handled the shock best. She still kept her eyes on the corpse no longer than necessary; Harry kept telling himself that it was a corpse, and no longer Stan Shunpike. Hermione had a hand covering her mouth. Luna for once was too shocked for words.

"Seriously," Ron whimpered. "Someone needs to open a window."

"This isn't the time for that, Ron!" Hermione shrieked at him.

"Hermione, I..."

"Listen," Harry broke in, looking around. "Aren't we slowing down?"

The train was indeed coming to a slow stop. Harry realized the jolt that had sent the body falling off the railing overhead had come from the conductor slamming down on the brakes suddenly. Everyone gasped as the lights suddenly went out without warning.

"It's okay!" he assured them, wishing he believed it. "We've just gone through the tunnel is all."

No one said a word as the train coasted to a stop. From outside, other Hogwarts students were crying out in surprise and confusion. Over it all, a set of pounding footsteps could be heard. Harry froze as the door to their compartment swung open loudly. A loud thud was heard as someone's toe struck against the corpse at their feet, and Harry thought he recognized the voice.

"Harry?" Colin Creevey called out. "Is Harry Potter in here?"

"I'm here, Colin," he told him, jerking the younger Gryffindor to his side. "What's going on?"

"Thank goodness," he breathed. "I was afraid they had lied about you being in here. Harry, you've got to hide right now. It's the Ministry of Magic, Harry. They're boarding the train right now."

Ginny gasped. "They know about Tonks, then."

"She'll be fine," Hermione stated in a worried voice. "Tonk knew what she was doing from the start. We need to figure out what to do. Maybe they aren't here for Harry after all?"

Harry didn't believe it. "No such luck," Colin told her. "Someone up from overheard them talking with the conductor and the trolley cart witch about what compartment Harry Potter was riding in. Harry, they've come here looking for you!"

"It's alright, Colin. Go back and see if you can't help distract them some way. We'll think of something."

Colin might have nodded, but it was still too dark to see very well. On the way out, his feet got tangled up in one of Stan Shunpike's arms, and nearly careened out into the corridor. "What's that lying on the floor?" he wondered, reaching back. "It feels almost like a..."

"Hurry, Colin!"

"Oh, right."

"At least he didn't have his camera with him this time around," Ron muttered.

"Harry, your Invisibility Cloak," Hermione said at once. "You need to find another compartment to hide in."

"I can't," he told her, yanking the trunk from his pocket. "Tonks shrunk it down when she put that spell on my trunk. I haven't been able to open it since then."

"Let's me see." Harry heard her reaching into her robes for her wand and held his hand with the trunk in it out. _"Engorgio!"_

A painful warmth coursed through his fingers as the compartment was momentarily lit up. A second later, there was a loud crash as his hand suddenly increased drastically in weight and crashed to the floor, along with the now-regrown trunk lying right on top of it.

"Hermione!"

"Sorry!" she said quickly, waving her wand around again. "It's very hard to see in here."

"Allow me," Luna told her, clearing her throat. _"Minimorpheos!"_

Once his hand returned to it's normal size, Harry quickly threw open his trunk and yanked the Invisibility Cloak free. Outside, he could hear people shouting for students to move out of the way. It sounded as though they were almost to their compartment now. Harry threw the Cloak over his head and eased the door open as quietly as he could.

"My trunk," he realized, whirling back around.

"We've got it!" Ron said. He and Neville were already hefting it over their heads to the opposite railing above them. "Get going!"

Nodding his thanks, he realized they couldn't see him anymore and ducked through the crowd. Up ahead, Ministry wizards were roughly shoving their way through the mass, ordering everyone out of the way. Harry didn't think they resembled the Aurors he had encountered in his experience. Rather, they reminded him of the bunch that had accompanied the Minister when he'd invaded the Burrow early this morning. One or two of them might have been part of the entourage. Whoever they were, they certainly meant business.

Several weren't pushing their way through the crowd. Instead, they opened each compartment they passed by and searched inside. More than once, students were forced out into the corridor as their compartment was searched more thoroughly. Harry felt a surge of outrage at the sight of this, but kept his anger in check for the moment. His priority was to keep himself hidden from sight, at least until the Ministry gave up and left.

Hiding wasn't really Harry's style, but as he watched the officials draw closer, and idea formed in his head. Ducking down, Harry crouched along the wall and began moving around the sea of feet. The Ministry wouldn't likely search a compartment they'd already gone through once. If he could just make it through the crowd without being noticed, he could hide out in one of them. It sounded simple enough, if the actual plan itself didn't prove more complicated. More than once, Harry wound up tripping over someone's feet or placing his hands in embarassing places completely by mistake. This not only caused the Invisibility Clock to slip off a little several times, but several girls began searched for their mysterious assailant.

Seamus Finnigan stepped forward to nearly knee Harry right in the face, just as he reached out to steady himself. Unluckily, he chose to grasp hold of what turned out to be a bare leg that belonged to none other than Cho Chang. Seamus had been trying to force his way back through the mob growing behind the Ministry officials as they searched the train. Cho's eyes widened for a moment as he passed, and then Seamus went flying as Cho punched him right in the face.

Pandemonium broke out. Harry gave up trying to keep himself covered and made a run for it as a full-blown fight broke out. Seeing an empty compartment off to his left, he dove into it and shut the door behind. Outside, the Ministry wizards were shouting in loud voices, setting off bangs and flashes of light in an attempt to quiet everyone down. At the same time, Hermione's voice rose up over the roar of the crowd to shout about a dead body. It looked like they'd managed to get out without anyone seeing them. It would be a while before he could get free, but at least his friends were safe.

Harry, meanwhile, crawled under the seat and waited, making sure his Cloak had him totally concealed. Time passed, and things outside gradually quieted down some. He could hear people moving around in a rush back and forth. After a time, he could hear students returning to their compartments as the train gave a whistle and began to pull forward again. Harry was just about to crawl out from under the seat when the compartment door opened again.

It was Draco Malfoy, along with Pansy Parkinson and another Slytherin Harry didn't recognize. Crabbe and Goyle were suspiciously absent, but still wasn't a good enough reason to expose himself. Harry made certain he was still completely covered up and stayed low to the ground. Draco and Pansy went for the seat above him, where Draco proceeded to lay his head in her lap. The other unnamed Slytherin took the seat opposite them and folded his legs neatly.

"A murder on the Hogwarts Express," he spoke in a silky voice after a moment's silence. "Who would have thought it?"

"Did you see the looks on those Gryffindor's faces when they brought the body out?" Pansy asked, laughing. "I thought a couple of them were going to faint from shock. So much for bravery!"

"Tell me about it," Draco muttered, raising his feet off the floor to stretch out properly.

"Still, it's odd, isn't it?" the unamed Slytherin went on, turning towards the window. "Who would have guessed something like this could happen so soon?"

"Don't try and play so shocked, Morgan," Draco bit at him. "Everyone in our house knew it was only a matter of time before Dumbledore slipped up." Draco gave a snicker, then. "Serves him right, really."

"I wonder what the Daily Prophet will have to say about this," Pansy went on when he fell quiet. "This will get Dumbledore in trouble for sure."

"I wouldn't count on it," the boy called Morgan warned. "Dumbledore has survived this long. Besides, since when has the Daily Prophet ever told the truth about what happens in our world?"

Morgan coughed. "I doubt something so simple as a dead corpse on a train full of students would make them see reason."

"What's it matter to you?" Pansy asked, shrewdly. "You're acting like you've got something up your sleeves again."

"Not this time," Morgan protested, innocently. "I'm merely observing. My family has opted to stay low for the time being. Father says it's better this way, until we know who the true champion is going to be. If you catch my drift!"

"So you're just going to sit back and join in at the last second on whichever side takes the lead, eh?" Draco raised up as he asked this, and there was a definite undertone of loathing in his voice. "Bloody coward. All you care about is saving your own skin!"

"What's wrong with that?" he replied, unflinching. "As I recall, this was your same philosophy not so long ago. You once told me that you never cared who really won, so long as your clan stood at the top of the pile."

Draco's legs shifted uncomfortably near Harry's invisible face. "Things change," he replied cryptically.

"Really?" Morgan leaned forward a little. "Tell me more."

"It's none of your business!" Draco stood up and glared at Morgan straight in the face. "I'm telling you to drop it, now."

"Draco," Pansy began, softly. "Has something happened? You told me over the summer that..."

"It's nothing," he said firmly, sitting back down all of a sudden. "Nothing's changed. I just..."

Draco's voice drifted off. "Forgive me," Morgan apologized sincerely after a pause. "I didn't mean to harp on unpleasant memories. Perhaps a change of subject is in order! Where are those two you normally spend your time with? I was a little surprised you wanted me around. It's not as though we've ever been the best of mates, after all."

"I told them I didn't want them hanging over me all the time this year," Draco replied. "Crabbe and Goyle need to learn to fend for themselves if they plan on surviving. I can't take care of them forever."

"I never really liked them breathing down our necks, either," Pansy said, loftily. "It'll be nice for us to spend some quality time to ourselves."

Harry had the distinct impression that Pansy was glaring at Morgan as she said this, for whatever reason. If this was was case, however, Morgan didn't seem to mind. "I must admit I'm looking forward to this year," he continued, obliviously. "Are you planning to take up the Quidditch Captain mantle? I hear Harry Potter was granted the title of Gryffindor Captain by the headmaster himself."

"Who cares?" Draco snubbed. "I might be too busy to handle anything like Quidditch anymore."

Morgan was grinning. "And you once accused me of being mysterious!"

There was nothing for Harry to do but remain where he was until the train finally arrived. The area under the seat was very cramped, with little room to manuveur. It would have been unwise to shift around much anyway, since any sudden movement might cause the Invisibility Cloak to fall off and give him away. Harry only hoped the train was getting close to Hogwarts. As uncomfortable as it were, though, Harry still found the predicament he was in interesting. It was nice to hear that Draco didn't rule the Slytherin house with an iron fist as he had often let everyone believe. Hearing another Slytherin give Draco grief was priceless!

Unfortunately, the rest of their conversation drew to a close as the train began to slow down once again. Harry wondered for a moment whether it was being stopped again, but then the Slytherins started getting to their feet. Time had slipped away from him while he was in his hiding place.

"I'm still interesting in why you are taking allegance to the Dark Lord so seriously," Morgan pressed, standing in front of the door.

"Like I said earlier," Draco replied, glaring back at him. "Things change."

"Are you planning on letting us out?" Pansy asked, her arms folded angrily.

"Like I could keep either of you here against your will." Morgan opened the door, and the compartment was at once filled with the noise of students chattering in the corridor. It sounded much louder than usual somehow, which made sense considering there had just been a murder on the train.

"You both coming?" Morgan asked, looking back at them.

"Go on," Draco told Pansy, who looked at him in surprise. "I'll be along in a minute. There's something I need to take care of first."

Pansy looked like she wanted to argue, but Draco wasn't having any of it. "Do it!" he barked, which sent her storming out the door in a huff after Morgan. Harry watched quietly as Draco shut the door and leaned up against it. He suddenly looked very tired; almost bone-weary in that moment. Draco then reached into the folds of his cloak and withdrew something. The item, whatever it was, fit too perfectly in Draco's palm for Harry to get a good look at it.

Draco turned the other way, almost as though he were aware that someone was watching him, and a soft green glow lit up from his hand. Harry watched, his body gone rigid, and listened closely as Draco Malfoy began to speak.

"Shunpike has failed, sir. His body was in the compartment with Potter and his friends, but no one knows who killed him."

There was a pause. "Yes, sir. I understand! Of course, I..."

Draco swallowed as a look of fear crossed his face. Sweat began to break out on his forehead. Harry couldn't hear who he was talking to. As far as he could tell, there were no other voices in the compartment with them. Whoever Draco was listening to, however, had clearly terrified Draco. And Harry suddenly had a horrible suspicious.

"Yes, master." It was barely audible, but the words rang out loud and clear in Harry's ears.

Harry waited while Draco clenched his hand. A trickle of blood ran down his arm from where he gripped, but Draco gave no notice. The light began to fade, and Draco slipped his hand back into the fold in his cloak. Keeping his back to Harry, Draco reached for the door. That was Harry's cue!

Before Draco could slide the compartment door open, he rolled out from under the seat, letting the Invisibility Cloak fall off in the process. Draco turned around at the noise, but he was two steps ahead. Blood pumped in Harry's veins as he threw himself up from the crouching position he'd rolled into and launched his whole body forward. His hand was clutching his wand; Harry couldn't remember reaching for it, but as Draco was going for his, it no longer mattered. Draco was faster on the draw, but Harry knocked it aside before his opponent could hex him.

"Hello, Draco." Harry pointed his wand at Draco's face. The tip of it began to glow ominously. "Making new friends, are we?"

Draco looked stunned for a moment, but quickly recovered. "Potter," he said distainfully, adopting a countenance that reminded Harry of his mother, Narcissa. "Eavesdropping is a very bad habit, you know. I should've expected as much from someone who spends so much time around house-elves, though."

"Funny," retorted Harry.

Draco swallowed, but didn't turn away. "Let go of me, Potter," he warned, seizing Harry by the hand. "This doesn't have anything to do with you. Dumbledore wouldn't want his pet fighting on the train now, would he?"

"Dumbledore isn't here. Neither is Crabbe and Goyle to beat people up for you. Or your father, to keep everyone who disagrees with you too afraid to speak up!"

Draco's eyes lit up with fury. "You leave my father out of this!" he roared.

"It's just you and me now, Draco." Harry's voice was cold as he spoke, gripping Draco's collar tighter. "You always knew it was going to be like this. It was going to come down to the two of us one day."

"Big talk for the wizarding world's Champion," Draco quipped back, pushing Harry back a little. "A Champion who runs away and doesn't show his face for nearly all summer. What happened, Potter? Dumbledore have you locked up in somebody else's cupboard for a change? I hope at least this one was owned by a wizard, instead of some filthy Muggle..."

Anger flowed through Harry's blood, and with it came strength. His right shoulder blade flared up, burning with a weird warmth that spread all through him. He didn't really remember throwing Draco. His body just reacted somehow. Harry would have never guessed he had the kind of strength needed to do anything like that. None of that covered up the loud crash that Draco's body made when it careened through the air into the wall. Nor did it stop the compartment from shaking as he landed hard on the ground. All Harry knew was that he abruptly felt fatigued, and Draco had his wand once again. He might have somehow lifted Draco off his feet, but the compartment was still relatively smal, and Harry had conveniently forgotten where he'd knocked Draco's wand before.

Not that any of this mattered now.

"Nice trick, Potter," Draco spat, getting to his feet. "Did your pathetic, Muggle-loving hero teach you that? I'm shocked Dumbledore was willing to show you anything worthwhile. He usually keeps your head full of more twaddle than anyone else. Not that it's hard to do."

"You're still all talk, Malfoy!" Harry said, bringing his wand up. "Maybe you should get a girlfriend. It would give you something else to do with your mouth! Assuming Slytherin girls like 'little boys.'"

There was no room in the compartment to dodge. Draco didn't utter a sound, but the blast that came from his wand took Harry up off his feet and sent him flying backwards through the door. It fell to the ground in the corridor outside with him falling fast right after it. They both landed with a loud clatter, but Harry was quick to get back on his feet. Draco was coming for him, and at least out here there was some room to manuveur.

The train was now empty of students. Draco held his wand up and sneered. "Not so tough now, are you, Potter? Looks like you're the one who's all talk!"

Draco fired off another hex, but this time Harry was ready for him. "Protego!" he cried out, using his shield to bounce the curse right back at Malfoy. "So what are you now, Malfoy? Did Voldemort make you his pet now that your father's been locked away in Azkaban?"

"Careful what you ask, Potter." Draco countered Harry's Stun hex with a shield of his own, once again not speaking his spells aloud. "Asking about things that aren't any concern of yours could get you killed. You wouldn't want to end up like that pimple-faced fool, would you?"

"What was Stan Shunpike doing on the train?!" he demanded, as they danced back and forth, throwing jinx after jinx at one another. To his surprise, Draco managed to spin out of the way of his hex, and throw one right back his way. Harry missed it by mere inches.

"You know something, Draco," he went on. "I know it! I heard you saying that he'd failed. What was Stan supposed to do on the Hogwarts Express?"

Harry's curse made the door behind Draco explode inward. "I don't know," replied Draco, moving back.

"Yes, you do. Tell me!"

The train gave a lurch, suddenly. Both Harry and Draco were thrown off-balance as it began to move forward along the tracks. Harry raised up to see a look of horror cross over Draco's face.

"Potter, you dolt!" he screamed. "The train's moving. We're going to be trapped on here!"

Harry had to duck as Draco fired off one hex at him after another. "I can't be left on this train, Potter. I can't!"


	5. Chapter 5 Homecoming

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 5

_**Homecoming**_

by Ri-kun

The corridor was smoldering now. Harry was surprised that a full-blown fire had not broken out from all the hexes and spells he and Draco had been blasting at each other. There were patches in the floor that glowed a soft red like embers from a fireplace. They had really made a mess of the place. He would likely be expelled if anyone found him here. He was tempted to just leave Draco and let him deal with the trouble. Of course, Malfoy would name him the moment the train arrived back at King's Cross.

"Potter!" Malfoy yelled, charging at him. Harry was reminded that he had a slightly more difficult problem to deal with at the moment.

Draco fired another spell at him, but Harry deflected it and countered. _**"Limbus Immobolis!"**_

The Leg-Locker Curse made Draco's lower limbs snap together at the knee. Caught off guard, he flailed around helplessly for a second, giving Harry the time he needed to snatch Draco's wand right out of his hand. "Come on," he barked, grabbing the Slytherin by the hand. "We've got to get out of here before the train picks up anymore speed!"

"Let go of me, Potter!"

Harry almost stopped, but forced himself to keep going. The train would be moving even faster any second now. "Malfoy, shut up."

Luckily, they were near the back of the train. Malfoy didn't make the trek any easier with his constant attempts at kicking Harry away. This could have been funny, as his legs were still fused together, were they not about to leap from the back platform. The wind had gotten colder; it whipped across Harry's face like a slap as he pulled the both of them out into the evening air.

"If we don't jump, we'll be stuck on this train together until it reaches King's Cross again," Harry warned Malfoy. "Which do you prefer?"

Obviously, the idea of leaping off didn't appeal to him. Harry fully expected he would be forced to shove him off, but the color slowly returned to Malfoy's face, and he nodded his ascent with a murderous glare in his eye. Harry aimed his wand downward and removed the Leg-Locker Curse. The moment this happened, Malfoy swung his leg out and kicked Harry squarely behind the knee. Both wands went clattering in opposite directions as he fell hard. Draco seized his before it could roll right off the platform, but his own scattered back through the door.

Harry raised up in time to see Malfoy sneer at him, then leap freely from the train. His cloak whipped through the air as he soared through the air, graceful and light as a feather. The train gave a rattle as it began to pick up speed. Harry reached for his wand as it began to roll back his way, carried by the momentum. He couldn't think of any spells that would transport him to the ground safely. He wouldn't take his Apparation lessons until sometime next year, and he'd never tried _Wingardium Leviosa_ to make himself fly.

Harry swallowed, and steeled his nerve. There was no other choice! His legs felt as if they were made of mud; every nerve in his body screamed for him to stay exactly where he was. His hands gripped the steel rails for a second, then released them as he propelled himself forward. His body flew through the evening air, feeling for an instant feather-light. Then gravity took hold, and he plummeted to the ground.

"_**Wingardium Leviosa!**_"

His body jerked clumsily as arms and legs dangled like a marionette's. Harry's body didn't exactly fly through the air as Malfoy's had, but he could feel it slowing down some as the ground rapidly approached. Quidditch training, combined with the previous summer, had taught him enough of what to do. Harry managed to come to a stop just short of a rather deep grout filled with something foul and slimey. His wand was still clutched tightly in his hand. The rest of his body felt bruised and battered, but nothing that would require a trip to Madame Pomfrey.

Harry stood up, the aches in his body making it difficult to move, and looked around. He was a short ways from the train station at Hogsmeade. The lights from it could still be seen farther back down the tracks. The train hadn't taken him very far, but Harry still had a bit of walking to do. Sighing, he lifted each sore leg and began treading back towards the all-wizarding settlement.

The distance proved farther than he expected, however. By the time Harry reached the train station, it was completely deserted. The air held the type of silence usually found in a place that had once been heavily occupied. Being alone here now was eerie and unsettling. Harry suddenly wanted to get up to Hogwarts as quickly as possible.

"Stay where you are!"

The voice came out from the shadows as Harry had been about to break into a run. Thinking it was someone from the Ministry, he quickly pocketed his wand before holding his arms up over his head.

"Turn around slowly."

The voice was very familiar. As he silently obeyed, a lone figure stepped out from a corner of the station building into the light. Harry felt a surge of relief as his old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Remus Lupin, moved towards him.

"Harry?" Professor Lupin asked, lowering his wand.

"Professor," breathed Harry, relieved. "What are you doing here?"

"Dumbledore asked me to make sure you got off the train. We heard a rumor at the last second that the Ministry was going to try and search it in mid-route. Are you alright?"

"I fine," he admitted, realizing that several leaves still stuck to his clothes. "And the Ministry did search the train. I had to hide in a Slytherin compartment under the..." Harry froze. "My Invisibility Cloak!" he cried, whirling around. "It's still on the train!"

"Forget about it," Lupin told him, taking him by the arm. "We've got to get up to the school now."

Harry didn't much appreciate being draggedf about by his former Defense teacher, but the Order member held him fast with all the strength of the werewolf burning inside him. Professor Lupin's fingers curled around his bicep like iron bars, unwavering in their grip. Harry wanted to wrestle free, but felt too much like he were suddenly a disobedient child trying to free himself from an irate parent. The thought left him with numerous mixed feelings, none the least of which was the fact that he and the Professor had not seen eye to eye the last time they'd spoken to one another.

As they left the train station, Lupin released Harry and kept his lit wand raised high while they marched up the trail towards the castle. Harry rubbed the place where Lupin had been holding him, but said nothing. The carridges had already departed with the thestrals, skeletal winged horses that could only be seen by those who witnessed death, pulling them. The first years would be heading across the lake by now. Hagrid would be in the boat, lighting the way to the underground port with his lantern. The air felt eerily quiet.

Lupin had said nothing the entire time. His face bore the weight of a man who'd lived at least twice his age, with hardships beyond definition to match. Each time they crossed paths, the former Marauder looked more worse for wear.

"How is Tonks?" Harry finally spoke up, breaking the silence at last.

Lupin stumbled, something Harry didn't remember ever seeing before. "Tonks is... going to be fine, Harry. Dumbledore assured me the Ministry wouldn't risk harming her, no matter how angry Scrimgeour might become. From what we can tell, he's not even aware that the person being guarded under lock and key isn't you yet."

Something occured to him. "So, why did the Ministry stop the train? I thought they had come to look for me again."

"Harry," Lupin began, as they came up near the large castle gates. "The Ministry has been doing it's best to search for potential Death Eaters, especially in places where other witches and wizards will see them. The Order received word at the very last second that someone had tipped the Ministry off of a possible Death Eater attack on the Hogwarts Express."

"Oh," was all Harry could think of to say.

"If they had found you," Lupin went on, looking his way. "It would have made things much worse. You were right to find a place to hide, but what took you so long getting off the train?"

"Malfoy," Harry admitted. "The compartment I hid in was Malfoy's. I didn't know it at the time; I was just trying to get out of sight before one of the Aurors saw me."

"Those weren't Aurors," Lupin interrupted. "Scrimgeour has created his own private band of Dark wizard catchers. They have elite status in the Ministry of Magic, and can use Unforgivable Curses at their own discrection. He calls them the Blackstaffs. I suspect word will be reaching the Daily Prophet about them eventually, provided they bring in enough of Voldemort's supporters."

The bitterness in Remus Lupin's voice was practically visible. "Anyway, what were you saying about Lucius' son?"

"We... had a go at each other. Malfoy was talking to someone in the compartment after everyone else had left. I couldn't see what he was using, but it was glowing a green color, and I heard him call someone master..."

"Harry, you must avoid confronting Draco Malfoy at all costs! Even though Lucius Malfoy is in Azkaban, the Malfoy family still has a great deal of pull within the Ministry. Fudge being sacked did nothing to change that."

Harry kept his eyes ahead of them and said nothing. The silence returned, but he did nothing to fill it this time. Lupin turned to look at him more than once as they stood outside the gates for someone to let them in. Lupin raised his wand and a burst of silver light, which quickly took the form of something large and hairy, took off through the metal bars through the Hogwarts grounds.

"Have you... heard from her?" Lupin asked softly.

"What?"

"Your friend, Rayne. Has she tried to contact you recently?"

The question caught him off balance. By the time Harry had recovered and could think of a suitable answer, the gates were swinging open. Harry was all set to rush through them up to the castle, but stopped short at the sight of Snape standing with a sneer on his face. The Potions Master stood dead center blocking their path.

"Lupin," Snape said coldly. "And, of course, Mr. Potter. This will mark the fastest detention you've ever earned, and term hasn't even officially began. I think one month will cover both the tardiness and fighting onboard the Hogwarts Express. That will be all, Lupin. I believe Dumbledore has already informed you that your lot is no longer welcome amongst these walls."

Harry blinked. He couldn't quite believe Dumbledore had said that.

"Now, Mr. Potter!" Snape barked, turning around. "Unless you have some other crime to confess to, like vanishing from sight, we need to be on our way. The Sorting will have begin. While there is rarely anything worth looking for each year..."

Snape paused, as if to drive his point home further. "One never can tell what each new year will bring. You will see me tomorrow morning bright and early for your punishment."

Harry scowled at Snape as they trudged up the remaining distance to the castle. It looked as warm and inviting as ever, perhaps even more so given the last several months. Being in Snape's presence wasn't enough to dampen his joy. The doors swung open as he and Snape approached, and Harry was greeted with the unwelcome sight of Filch, who grinned sadistically while holding a strange, glowing rod.

"Picked up a straggler, Professor?" he wheezed, eyes sparkling. "Such a shame, really. That means I'll have to take extra-special care in searching 'em over!"

"Please do," Snape said, moving on past them. "Feel free to not be gentle, Filch. I'm late for the Feast."

Harry's stomach gave a growl as he watched Snape stroll down the foyer towards the Great Hall. It had been hours since he'd eaten, and now he would have to endure whatever ordinance Filch had been authorized with. He shouldn't have been too surprised at this. If the Ministry was imposing new security and restrictions everywhere else, Hogwarts would surely have someone checking the entrances to make sure nobody brought in Dark devices. None of that was going to make this any easier, however. Dumbledore could have surely found someone better than Filch for this!

Filch spent what felt like the next half-hour or so poking and prodding Harry in any available crevice, as well as some he hadn't realized he owned before. Each time the rod hit him in the ribs, the pain caused him to jump slightly, which only encouraged his tormentor to do it more often. Finally, it was obvious that Harry possessed no Dark items or enchantments on him. That didn't stop Filch from giving him one last good jab in the side with the glowing rod before letting him pass. Harry was even more bruised now than when he'd taken a leap off the back of the train. All he wanted was to get to the Great Hall and eat.

As usual, the Hall was packed with students. The Sorting had already taken place, as the first years were no longer lined up front. Several people turned to stare at him as he came through the doors as quietly as possible. He wished there had been time to at least change into his wizarding robes. Not that Snape would have allowed it, of course. Plus, there was also the fact that his robes had been in his trunk, which for all he knew was rolling back towards King's Cross along with his Invisibility Cloak. Harry felt a pang as he remembered the absense of his father's cherished Cloak. It had been the only real thing that connected the two of them.

Whispered followed him as he walked up the Gryffindor table towards where he saw Hermione and Ron. The moment Harry sat down, Hermione threw her arms around him and gave a squeak. People were starting to go back to whatever they'd been doing before, or at least, pretending to pay less attention to him. He could still feel the eyes of curious onlookers watching him from the other tables.

"ermio..." Harry croaked. "Hermione, get off! I'm okay now, really."

Ron was watching them with an odd look on his face as she let go. "Oh, Harry! Everyone's been so worried. What happened to you after..."

"I had to hide under a seat in the compartment Malfoy was in," he whispered, gesturing for them to move in close.

"Wha bade you 'ade dere?" Ron wondered, his mouth full of food. "Sorry, what made you hide in there, Harry?"

"I didn't do it on purpose. It was just an empty compartment, but then Malfoy came in with Parkinson and this other Slytherin. They were talking about Stan being dead on the train."

Ron turned slightly sick at the mention of this, but Harry kept on going. "When the train stopped, Malfoy stayed behind. I could hear him talking into something. He was holding it in his hand, and it glowed. I think Malfoy is working for Voldemort now!"

"Really?!" Neville squeaked, then lowering his head, whispered, "Sorry! Really, Harry?"

"Harry, are you sure that's what you heard?" Hermione asked, skeptical. "I mean, did Malfoy really say You-Know-Who's name? He could have been talking to anyone. Besides, if he had any kind of communication device, Filch would've found it."

"Yeah, mate," Ron nodded, devouring the last bit of his pudding tart. "Maybe you were just... imagining it or something."

"I wasn't imagining it," Harry said indignantly.

"Did he have the Mark?" Hermione pressed. "That's how Death Eaters are supposed to communicate with one another, right?"

"I couldn't see," he admitted. "He didn't have his sleeves rolled up. Anyway, he wasn't talking into his arm. I don't know that the Mark even works that way. Malfoy was speaking into whatever he was holding in his hand."

"Harry, why don't you just eat something. You've gotten here very late."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, passing him a tart. "If you don't hurry, the food's going to be..." The tart vanished from Ron's hand just as Harry reached for it. Harry's stomach growled once again as if in reply. He had missed the Sorting and the feast, all thanks to Filch and Snape, who watched him from his seat next to McGonagal with a satisfied smile.

"May I have your attention?" Professor McGonagal called out, standing.

The Great Hall at once fell silent. Harry realized with a jolt that Dumbledore was nowhere to be found. The new Defense teacher, Professor Darkholme, was sitting in the chair opposite of where the headmaster would have normally been, eyeing the other teachers with an air of suspicion. Hagrid was at his usual place, drinking from a rather large mug as his cheeks grew progressively redder. When McGonagal glanced his way, he quickly let the mug down with a loud thunk. A few first years snickered, but no one else made a sound.

"Thank you," she went on, still glaring Hagrid's way. "Before you return to your dormitories, I have been asked by the headmaster to make several announcements on his behalf. Firstly, the Forbidden Forest is, as it has always been, off-limits to all students unless express permission is given. Second, due to recent events, Hogwarts has taken on new and more severe security measures. Students will not be allowed out in the corridors after six p.m. The corridors will be patroled at all times of the day by faculty and volunteer Aurors from the Ministry of Magic, as well as several other professional duelists. Leaving the castle for whatever reason without permission will result in immediate expulsion."

No one made a sound as McGonagal went through her list. "Also, I would like for you to welcome your new instructor for the Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Darkholme, who came highly recommended by Professor Dumbledore himself."

Professor Darkholme looked as though she didn't quite believe McGonagal, but when the Transfiguration teacher gestured to her, she merely stood up and blowed slightly towards the students. Everyone watched her for a moment with expressions of surprise. The candlelight was oddly flattering for her. Harry had already met her, of course, yet he found himself struck once again at how beautiful she could be. Some of the students appeared to be bracing themselves. Harry suspected they were preparing themselves for a long and droll speech. All Professor Darkholme did, however, was sit back down and fold her arms in front of her, expectantly. McGonagal herself seemed a little surprised at the humble manner in which the new Defense teacher had presented herself.

"That is all," she said after a moment's pause. "Prefects, you are to escort students to their common rooms."

Everyone took that as a sign to leave. Ron and Hermione waved goodbye to Harry as they began rallying up the new Gryffindors. Ron was doing his usual job of terrifying several particularly frightened first years, which earned him a hard smack from Hermione. The three first years immediately dissolved into giggles and wandered away, while Ron turned to glare at her reproachfully.

"So, Harry," Neville said, as he and Ginny came up behind him. "You really think Malfoy is working for You-Know-Who now?"

"Yes," he answered decisively. "I can't prove it yet, but that must have been who he was talking to."

"I could believe it," Ginny said. "Malfoy probably jumped at the chance to follow in his dad's footsteps."

As they exited the Great Hall, Luna Lovegood spotted Harry and began waving to him. Harry smiled and waved back, prompting her to leave the group of Ravenclaws heading up the stairs ahead of them.

"Harry!" she said excitedly. "We were all wondering what had happened to you? Are you alright?"

Harry felt touched at Luna's concern. "I'm fine. Listen, I've got some things to tell you, but not right now. Could we talk tomorrow sometime before class?"

"Absolutely. Is it going to be like a DA meeting?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Sure, I guess so. But don't let anyone else know about it just yet. Let's just keep it between all the core members for now, okay?"

Luna's eyes practically shined with excitement. "If you say so. I'll see you at breakfast, then!"

Neville and Ginny both followed Harry up the stairs towards the Gryffindor tower. Ron and Hermione had already gone ahead, and it looked as though they were going to be left behind. When Harry reached the trick step, he automatically reached behind to warn Neville, who had always gotten his foot stuck in it. Neville, however, just leaped right over it along with everyone else and looked blankly at Harry.

"Something wrong?" he asked, confused.

"No," was all he could say, moving on. "Nothing wrong at all. Did either of you see Dumbledore when you came in, by the way?"

"He didn't show up during the entire feast," Ginny informed him, shaking her head. "We were kind of hoping you were with him. Did he say anything to you earlier today about not being at Hogwarts?"

"Password?" the Fat Lady asked as they stood in front of her.

Harry opened his mouth, then realized he had no clue as to what the password was. "Valor refuge," Neville quoted at once.

Everyone stared this time. "Hermione gave it to me earlier," he shrugged as the door swung open.

Harry climbed over the large step behind the portrait. The common room was well-lit, and one of the house-elves had already lit a fire in the fireplace. The room was cosy warm as they filed into it. For the first time, Harry felt safe against the war waging outside Hogwarts' doors.

Ginny stood next to him for a moment wearing a knowing smile. "Welcome home, Harry," she told him, before heading up to her own room.

It was good to be home.


	6. Chapter 6 Professor Darkholme

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

_**Chapter 6**_

_**Professor Darkholme**_

by Ri-kun

Harry arose wth the sunrise and spent a great deal of time simply enjoying the softness of the bed underneath him. The sheets smelled freshly cleaned and washed, draping lightly over his body. A draft from somewhere blew over him, bringing a chill that made him huddle up deeper under the covers. Someone had left a window during the early hours of the morning. His roommates had been ecstatic to be back for their sixth year. Even Neville had joined in on the fun, laughing and joking alongside Seamus and Dean as they gobbled down various snack treats that had come from Fred and George's shop. Dean had been there several times, as it turned out.

Neither Harry nor Ron remembered seeing boxes of Weasley's Moodballs. Dean informed them as he was passing them out that the shop had run out early on. Fred and George hadn't made enough to keep the shelves stocked before their visit, and Dean had grabbed the last few that were there. Ron seemed a little put out at first, but that could have been due to the Peach Pout he'd wolfed down. Soon, everyone was laughing as they each flew into a rage over absolutely nothing with Rasberry Rage, began sobbing at the drop of a hat on Struddle Stobs, and cackling madly for no good reason with Lime Laughter.

Harry had soon begged off, though. It was still early when he'd crawled into bed and pulled the curtains around to muffle some of the noise. Everyone had been watching him the whole time. It was clear by their faces they wanted to ask him something, and he still had a fair idea as to what that was. Hoping to avoid the whole issue, he crawled from his bed, ignoring the chill in his bones that begged to return to the warmth of his bed. The trash from the night before had been cleared away already. It seemed the house-elves were still going about their duties. He wondered what Hermione would have to say about that as Ron yanked the curtain to his bed aside and stumbled out.

"Thought you'd be awake," his friend mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes wearily. "Headed down to breakfast, then?"

"Yeah," he said quickly, struggling over a pair of clean socks. "Listen, do me a favor and don't wake the others up just yet."

"What for?" Ron wondered, tripping over his trunk and swearing.

Harry had a knot in his shoelaces that he fought to untangle for several seconds. "Was anyone asking questions about me last night? About where I'd been all summer? Did they say anything about it to you?"

"What?" Ron asked, raising up. "Oh, yeah. Dean and Seamus brought it up loads of times."

"Did you tell them anything?"

"Of course not!" replied Ron, indignantly. "Except for..."

Harry looked up at Ron, who now appeared to be turning a slight pale color. "Ron?"

Ron swallowed. "Well, there was this one Moodball that Seamus fed to me after you'd gone off for the night. He didn't tell me what it was, but I think I heard Dean saying how it was a Tart Truth, or something of the sort. Things after that were a blur..."

Harry didn't wait around to hear the rest of Ron's explaination. There was no telling what he might have said after that point, and Harry wasn't in a mood to answer everyone's questions. He didn't feel like it was any of their business, for that matter. What had happened over the summer between himself and Rayne had been private. The fact that Ron had blabbed, even when under the influence of a Weasley Moodball, left him feeling more than a little burned.

The Great Hall was already filling up. He could hear the noisy chatter from inside long before reaching the huge doors. For a moment, Harry considered blowing off breakfast to be alone. If he went up to the Owlery, there was a chance he might find a letter there from Rayne. Harry would much rather get it personally than in front of everyone else. His need for food was the only thing that kept him heading in the direction of the Hall.

Hermione was already sitting at the Gryffindor table with several books open in front of her and a piece of toast in her hand. She was obviously lost in thought, pouring over the various subjects in front of her, and didn't look up as he approached. It dawned on Harry then that they would be taking fewer subjects this time around, based on how well their O.W.L.s had gone. Harry knew he had always wanted to be an Auror up until now. McGonagal had sworn to him in front of a hysterical Umbridge that she would do everything in her power to help him achieve his goal, too. He wondered now if she mean to follow through on it.

Hermione was chewing thoughtfully as she peered through some of her notes, but waved when Harry sat down across from her. Harry reached for some toast, having not eaten anything the night before, and before long had piled his entire plate high with food. Hermione looked up long enough to glance his way.

"Good morning, Harry," she said, passing him the pumpkin juice. "McGonagal was looking for you earlier. Have you seen her yet?"

Harry shook his head, but swallowed before speaking. "No," he answered. "I just came down from the tower. Did she say what she wanted?"

"Probably just to look over this year's schedule with you. She's helping all the sixth years in our house. I've already figured out most of mine, but there are still a few questions I need to ask her about N.E.W.T level Arithmancy before the morning is over with."

More people were filing in now. Harry spotted some of the old members of the D.A. from last year, who quickly waved before seeking out their own tables. His thoughts drifted to the evening before, and how he'd asked Luna to meet with him. He still wondered if the D.A. was really necessary. Waiting to see what sort of teacher Professor Darkholme turned out to be seemed like the best solution. That didn't stop him from debating on where might be a good place to pick back up on. Looking around, Harry spotted Malfoy over at the Slytherin table with Crabbe and Goyle back in their usual places surrounding him. It seemed he had reverted to traveling with a guard at all time. Harry supposed he should glean some small satisfaction from this. It wasn't nearly enough, not nearly as good as learning what Malfoy was up to, but it was something.

Ron soon came in with Seamus and several other Gryffindors, who were curiously sticking to him like glue. The moment they reached the table, each one broke off and immediately surrounded Harry.

"Harry, mate!" Seamus said heartily, clapping him roughly on the shoulder. "Wonder if we could have a word with you."

"Right. You're not doing anything at the moment. Care to fill us in on something?"

"I haven't decided whether to start the D.A. back again," he answered, as Seamus tried snatching a piece of toast from his plate. Harry blocked him before he could reach it and swatted his hand away. "We may not even need one this year."

"What?" Dean asked, staring at him. "Oh, yeah. Right! That thing."

"I still say we should keep the D.A. open," Neville broke in. "Dumbledore would allow it. The thing is..."

"We were all wanting to ask you something," Seamus interrupted with a glare.

"Mr. Potter?"

Everybody froze as Professor McGonagal's voice cut through the air between them. Harry looked around to find her standing halfway down the table, a clipboard in her hands as she stared towards him.

"Could I see you in my office, please?"

Wondering what he could have done, Harry stood up amid several growing whispers coming not only from the Gryffindor table, but the surrounding ones as well. Even Hermione appeared slightly worried as she watched him leave over her stack of books and papers. The chatter followed him as he left the Great Hall. The Slytherins in particular seemed to find the whole thing funny. Draco would be having a huge laugh at his expense by now. Pausing at the doors to glare back at Malfoy, Harry noted that Dumbledore's chair at the faculty table was still conspiciously vacant.

Wondering where he could be, Harry hurried out of the Great Hall to catch up with McGonagal, who by now was on the stairs waiting for him. Together, they made their way up through the castle to McGonagal's office. Harry had been in here few times, for a very good reason. McGonagal always had a way of making him feel as though he'd done something terribly wrong. The last few times Harry had visited this place had been particularly bad. He'd just been thinking about how the Transfiguration teacher had promised to help him become an Auror. Over there in the corner was where Umbridge had been standing the previous year, ranting about how the Ministry would never accept him.

"Please have a seat," she informed him, sitting down at her own desk.

Harry swallowed and complied as McGonagal conjured up a plate of buscuits before him. "There's no reason to look so severe," she assured him. "I merely needed to discuss the matter of your new schedule for this term. You were still interesting in becoming an Auror like before, correct?"

Harry nodded, and wondered at the same time why he'd been given such treatment. The Head of his house had never shown favoritism towards anyone before. Hermione had said nothing about coming here, but...

"The thing is, Potter," McGonagal went on. "You met the requirements for every course needed to enter the Auror training facility the Ministry sends new recruits to. In some cases, you excelled beyond normal expectations. However..."

She swallowed then, as if steadying herself for some rather unpleasant news. Harry suddenly had a sinking feeling.

"There has been some new developments at the Ministry of Magic." McGonagal said this as though she were chewing through something particularly foul. "According to a memo sent to us by Rufus Scrimgeour, the Ministry has decided with the recent events to raise the standards of their Auror program."

"Do you mean," he asked slowly. "Does that mean I don't qualify?"

"Not exactly," she continued. "Even with the new standards, you should fare just fine. The thing is, an unconfirmed source alerted the Ministry a few days after you would have received your O.W.L. results. It seems the examiners made several mistakes in grading one of your courses. Though you still faired well by any means, it drops you below the requirement needed here at Hogwarts to proceed to N.E.W.T. level. And the Auror program doesn't accept O.W.L. or below."

McGonagal paused for a moment to allow Harry time to absorb this. "I truly am sorry, Mr. Potter."

Harry knew she was sincere. If anything, Professor McGonagal sounded even more disappointed that he was. She alone perhaps had understood how important being an Auror was for Harry.

Reaching under her desk, McGonagal drew out her wand once more and pointed to an empty parchment atop her desk. Words appeared in her usual neat scrawl from top to bottom. "This is your new schedule for this term. I will speak with Professor Dumbledore when he returns, and see if something can't be done. If nothing else, there might be a way for you to take a remedial course next summer to bring your grade up. I should warn you, though, Mr. Potter. It might not be possible to change the outcome regardless."

Harry took his new schedule, then paused before glancing at it to meet McGonagal's eyes. Behind her usual stern exterior was something that looked almost like heartbreak. Harry gathered himself up and nodded.

"It's alright, Professor. Thank you very much."

As Harry made for the door, he glanced down at the parchment in his hands. His first lesson for today was in a little over two hours, Defense Against the Dark Arts with the newly enstated Professor Darkholme. Harry admitted to more than a little curiosity, wondering how she would handle a position that had claimed the lives and minds of so many other wizards! Scrolled down farther, he realized there was a single course conspiciously absent. Harry felt then that he knew who the Ministry's 'unconfirmed source' had been.

*****

"You mean, there's nothing McGonagal can do?" Hermione pressed, stacking books on top one another. "You aren't going to be allowed to take Potions this year?"

"Can't really see it's a bad thing," Ron said, glancing over her way. "A year without Snape! Sounds more like a reward than a punishment to me."

"But Harry was hoping to be an Auror, Ron. He needs to take Potions if he wants to even be considered for the Ministry program after Hogwarts. Honestly, do you ever spend time worrying about your future?"

"What for?" he asked, at her exasperated look.

"It's okay," Harry broke in, splitting them up. "Really, Hermione. I'm fine with it."

"See?" Ron pointed, then turned back to his comic, The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle.

"McGonagal's right," Hermione said, turning to Harry and ignoring Ron. "There's got to be something Dumbledore can do to fix this. Can't you talk to him before classes start? He's probably in his office right now."

"He's not here. I know," he added, when Hermione opened her mouth. "McGonagal said so."

"Where could Dumbledore be?" she wondered, looking off into space thoughtfully. "Especially now!"

"He wasn't at the feast last night, either," Ron added, looking over at Hermione. "Why didn't you just ask McGonagal where he was, Harry?"

"I didn't think she would tell me." Harry thought the answer was rather obvious. "Besides, I'm in enough trouble as it is. Snape gave me detention for a month at the gate last night for being late. I'm suppose to see him sometime today to find out what my punishment will be." Harry felt the indignation building in his chest. "I'm pretty sure Malfoy's the one who squealed on me."

Ron snorted, going back to his comic. "No surprise there, mate!"

"I'd still love to know who he was talking to in the compartment on the train. It had to be Voldemort! There's no one else."

"Harry, You-Know-Who isn't recruiting Death Eaters before they've had a chance to leave Hogwarts." Hermione was giving him a look as she said this. "It's just irrational. Malfoy was probably having fun playing a joke on you, or goofing around with some new toy his mother gave him."

"He didn't know I was in that compartment," Harry pointed out. "And if you're suggesting he calls his mum 'master'..."

Ron shuddered. "Don't even joke!"

Hermione glared fiercely at Ron. When he proceeded to ignore her still, she reached around and snatched the comic right out of his hands. The image of Martin Miggs on the front cover gave a high-pitched squeak as she crumpled it up in her fist.

"Isn't this a little old for you to be reading?" Hermione grilled. "Even for you, I mean. Where did you get this, anyway?"

"Took it from a second year," he said, trying in vain to snatch it back. "Hermione! You're bending the pages! That's a really rare issue."

"And you abused your prefect authority to take it from a Hogwarts student. It makes me wonder what else you've been abusing around here. Honestly, Ron! That would be enough for Dumbledore to take your prefect status away indefinitely."

Ron scoffed, and looked towards Harry for support. "Not a chance. Malfoy gets away with it every day! Right, Harry?"

"So you're stepping down to his level, now? If you're not going to think about your own future, could you at least help me with mine?"

"What for?" he asked in earnest. "We've still got another hour before our first class starts. And after that, it's another two before Herbology. Can't we just enjoy ourselves for a little while, Hermione? Why does everything have to be so serious with you?"

"You've both got Herbology after Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Harry asked, suddenly.

"Don't you?" Hermione asked in a calmer voice, letting go of Ron's comic.

Ron quickly grabbed it up as Harry pulled out his schedule and set it down on the table. Hermione began to glance through it, looking more severe by the second. Ron at first pretended he wasn't interested, but by the time Hermione leaned up, was glancing down over her shoulder.

"They've only got us together for Dark Arts," she said softly. "Ron and I have two other classes together besides that, but otherwise..."

"You mean, none of us are going to be taking the same classes at the same time this year?" Ron looked stunned. "That's insane! Who're Harry and I supposed to copy after this year?"

Hermione didn't look at Ron. "I knew sixth years were spit up between all four houses. It seems wrong that we're not going to see each other as much, though. I guess we'll have Defense to look forward to."

"It's no big deal, Hermione," Ron replied, shrugging. "We can still hang out in the common room together. You can help Harry and me with our homework, just like always!"

Harry suspected Ron was the reason Hermione wanted to leave the common room so soon before their first and only class together. Ron managed to keep up, yet she did a good job of not looking his way the whole time. Together, they wandered down through the various moving staircases to the second floor where Defense was usually taught. The closer they got, the clearer it was to Harry that Hermione was anxious to see their new teacher.

"You met her when you went with Dumbledore," she pressed. "What was she like?"

Harry tried for a way to explain. "She's not bad, I guess. Dumbledore seemed to think she was the only one qualified."

"Which is saying a whole bunch, considering who she's going up against," Ron broke in. "After that Umbridge toad, how bad are you expecting this class to be?"

"It pays to be prepared," she answered loftily, rounding a sharp corner. "And not all of our Defense professors were horrible."

Harry silently disagreed with her, but it was Ron as usual who spoke up. "Quirrell was too afraid of his own shadow to teach anything," he counted off on his fingers. "Lockhart wouldn't stop talking about himself for five seconds, Lupin was fine so long as the full moon didn't roll around, and besides not being himself, literally, Moody was completely nutters. Believe me, Hermione. The only thing this new one would have to do as an improvement would be to show up without hexing someone!"

Professor Darkholme was waiting for them as they filed in. There were a total of maybe fifteen students in all; the smallest Defense class Harry had ever seen. To his immense relief, Malfoy wasn't present. Neither were Crabbe and Goyle, unsurprisingly. Though this would make it harder to learn what he was up to, Harry was grateful for the reprieve. Including them, there were four Gryffindors. Neville sat off to the side by himself not far from their table. A lone Hufflepuff came running in during the last precious seconds before the bell. The rest were composed of Slytherins and Ravenclaws, among which were the mysterious blonde-haired boy that had been in the train compartment with Draco, and Luna Lovegood. Harry smiled when she gave a shy wave at him before facing the front. It was good to know at least some of the D.A. was in the room with him.

"My name is Professor Darkholme," she said, once the bell had rung. "You can all put your books away. Today, we will be taking a practical examination to help evaluate each and every one of you. Please clear your tables and stand at the front of the room."

Harry and Ron's faces both fell at the mention of 'examination'. He definitely hadn't seen this coming. Hermione was looking quite satisfied with herself as she packed her books and quills away. About halfway up to the front, Neville joined them, looking just as pale and frantic. Once everyone stood in a line, Professor Darkholme had them pull out their wands and hold them in front of her as she strode down the line to inspect each one. When she reached Nevilles, Darkholme paused for a second.

"This is a new wand, isn't it?" she said, holding it up to the light.

"Yes, mam," Neville answered, watching while she tested the weight in her hands. "My gran took me to get it. It was one of the last that Ollivander sold."

"You're the Longbottom boy, aren't you? I've read about you in the Prophet a few times. The last wand you had belonged to one of your parents before it got broken, am I right?"

Harry thought she was asking a lot of personal questions. Neville merely nodded and replied, "It was my father's, yes."

Professor Darkholme moved right along, taking each wand and giving it her personal opinion. On some, she took several seconds in judging the wand, while others barely touched her fingers. Harry had seen Ollivander do something like this before when he'd been in the Triwizard Tournament. He guessed she was testing to see whether their wands were in working order, but so far, she had yet to cast a single spell with them.

When she reached him, a small smile crossed over Darkholme's face. Harry passed his holly and phoenix feather wand over to her, mindful the whole time of the unique connection it shared with Voldemort. Fawkes the phoenix had given only two feathers to be made into wand cores. His and Voldemort's wands were brothers, meaning they would never work properly against each other in a duel.

Professor Darkholme seemed to spend more time observing Harry than his wand. Her eyes remained fixated on him as she gazed past his wand to meet his eyes. When she finally handed it back, her fingers brushed over his for a moment, sending a chill up his spine.

Once she was finished, Darkholme pulled out her own wand and gave it a flick. The tables filling the room pulled themselves away at once with a horrible noise; their legs scraping along the ground the whole time. Several students winced at the noise, but their professor gave no notice.

"Now then," she said, clearing her throat. "Your headmaster didn't leave me with much to go on, but as I've been informed by your other professors, this course had seen it's fair share of bad luck through the years."

No one responded, but Harry thought that was an understatement. "However, it seems that several of you managed to do quite well on your Ordinary Wizarding Level exams. Quite well, in fact!"

Darkholme was looking straight at Harry as she said this. "So, for now, we will begin determining the level each and every one of you are at, personally. I want each of you to pair up and, one at a time, move to the center of the room. What we are going to do is have a simple, non-lethal duel to gadge your experience in dealing with curses and hexes. Each duel will last three minutes. Keep in mind that simply winning the duel isn't good enough. What I want to see is how well you deal with unexpected situations. You should know that there will be two more exams similar to this one, and the student that I feel performs the best out of everyone will be granted a special positon."

Harry thought she meant they would be allowed to pick their own partners. The moment students started moving towards one another, though, Professor Darkholme split them up and placed them with someone else. The sole Hufflepuff wound up being stuck with a Ravenclaw, and didn't look happy about it. Ron tried in vain to get Hermione's attention, who was torn between the Slytherin named Morgan and Luna Lovegood. Darkholme made the decision for her a second later by placing her next to Morgan. Harry was left standing next to Luna, who eyed him for a moment.

"You weren't at the table when I came by," she said, as Darkholme went through the remaining students. "I thought perhaps you didn't want me in the D.A. anymore."

"Professor McGonagal took me to her office," he reassured her. "She had something to tell me about me schedule this year. I didn't get to meet with anybody this morning. It had nothing to do with you."

"Good," she nodded, serenely. "So, we're still friends?"

"Of course," Harry said, giving her a small grin. "Always."

Something occured to Harry, then. "Say, Luna? Aren't you still a fifth year?"

Luna was busy watching something out the window. Harry thought she hadn't heard him, but then Luna spoke in a whimsical voice. "Actually, I took my O.W.L. exams a year early. You can have them mailed to you over the summer. Father was quite pleased with the results. He thinks we'll be able to locate the Haxamorphical Phalicutoriuas of Homptail Hill much faster now."

"Potter," Darkholme said, pointedly.

Harry clapped his mouth shut, hoping he wasn't going to get any more detentions from one of his professors. Darkholme smiled at the look on his face and motioned him forward. "I'm pairing Ms. Lovegood up with Longbottom for now. Since there seems to be an uneven number of students, would you care to be my partner? Just for now, I mean."

Luna seemed to have no objections. Neville stood next to her looking a little red as she glanced his way. Harry filed to the center of the room, all eyes on him. Professor Darkholme waited and raised her wand in a kind of odd curtsey, before facing off against him.

"Relax, Mr. Potter," she told him, as he brought his wand up to salute back. "I have no interests in hurting you."

Then she spun around and brought her wand up. "Too much!"


	7. Chapter 7 Raynesent

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 7

Raynesent

by Ri-kun

"Very good, Mr. Potter!" Professor Darkholme appraised as she spun out of the way of his hex. "Let's see how you handle this."

Harry steeled himself as several red orbs flew from the tip of Darkholme's wand. So far, he had been attacked with an ice jinx that missed his head by inches and froze a window solid, a blasting hex which complete demolished a nearby cabinet, and two curses that yet remained unidentifiable, but left the lone Hufflepuff hiccuping uncontrollably. Professor Darkholme had apologized, but refused to let up the duel. Her newest spell was flying straight for Harry, changing to a deep blue color.

The orbs began whizzing over his head, swooping down low at times and herding him off to the left. Harry realized what was happening a second too late as they extinguished themselves, leaving him wide open.

Darkholme was waiting with her wand pointing straight at his chest. Harry thought she really was going to curse him, but all Darkholme did for a moment was stare him right in the face. Slowly, she drew her wand away and looked him over.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" she asked, thoughtfully. "Well done, Mr. Potter."

Harry wasn't sure why, as he'd most certainly lost. Several students applauded as he took his place back in the row of students. Hermione was watching him as though she were just seeing him for the first time. Ron shrugged grudgingly, then stepped forward as the teacher called his name.

For the rest of the period, Darkholme had them each watch as two students teamed up against one another. More times than not, she would point out critical errors during the duel, or judge the effectiveness of the spells being used. Harry thought she was trying to show them how to better prepare during a fight. It was quite the breakaway from the sort of teaching they'd had before. Hermione especially seemed to be trying to take in every word. She looked a little lost without a piece of parchment in front of her to scribble notes down on. Harry imagined she would have gone to get some if Darkholme hadn't been looking their way every few minutes.

When the duels finally ended, more than a few were left with injuries. Luckily, it was nothing more serious than a few well-placed Stinging Hexes and some misplaced ears. Harry was one of the few who'd walked away more or less unharmed, but it looked like a number of classmates would be heading up to Madame Pomfrey soon. Hermione had faired well in her duel against the Slytherin called Morgan. Morgan was clutching his right arm where a Boil Hex had struck him, but otherwise was doing okay. Both Luna and Neville had come close; their duel had been one of the longest. Professor Darkholme had finally stepped in and declared it a draw after a bit. Ron had struck out early on with a simple Stunning Hex, and had needed reviving.

"Overall," the professor said, once they were finished. "I'm very proud of each of you. Some of you did much better than I expected you to. Others, I see room for improvement, which we will definitely work on in the coming months. What I expect from you this point onward is to work on building your skills at defending yourselves, and working on how to react when curses are fired your way. This year will be an especially trying time. In light of recent evens, I feel it's important to prepare you for whatever you might come into contact with outside the safety of Hogwarts."

Professor Darkholme was pacing as she said this. "Over the course of this next month, we will be having several tests that will not determine the outcome of your grade in this course. My reason for doing this is to select from one of you an assistant. Whoever is chosen will be responsible for helping students who have fallen behind, tutoring those in need of it, and even taking over the class should I be called away on business. In addition to this, however, the assistant will be given certain rewards, such as access to the Prefects bathroom, useage of the library's Restricted section, and several other tidbits."

Mentioning the Restricted section made Hermione's eyes light up. Ron snickered at this, but she made it a point of ignoring him. "I wish you all the best of luck. Class is now dismissed so that any of you who require a visit to the hospital wing may do so at your leisure."

"Mr. Potter," Professor Darkholme called out, as he was halfway through the door. "May I have a word with you?"

Someone snickered as Harry turned back through the door frame. "It's alright, Mr. Potter," she told him, noticing the look on his face. "I merely wanted to ask you something. Someone informed me this morning that you ran a study group of sorts last year, specifically for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am." The DA had hardly been a mere study group, but he didn't bother correcting her.

"Hmmm," she replied, when he didn't elaborate. "The thing is, Harry, Dumbledore recruited me on such short notice that I haven't had the chance to prepare thoroughly. The whole reason for this assisstant position was so I could free up some time for myself. I was wondering if you were considering keeping the group open this year?"

"Maybe. I haven't decided yet, actually. Some people have asked me about it, though."

"If you would, keep it in mind. From what I've seen, a number of your classmates who took part in it faired much better overall today. I think it would be a great opportunity to allow the others to catch up."

Harry had the feeling she was trying to tell him something else. The Professor kept her eyes fixed solely on him the entire time. Though her face remained neutral, she looked at him as though she were seeing right into his mind. Harry suddenly was reminded of Professor Dumbledore, and took a step back.

"I'll think about it," he promised. "I've got to get going now, though."

"Enjoy your next class," she called out as he dashed through the door.

Harry wondered on the DA as he wandered through the corridors that made up the castle. He wasn't sure if he liked Professor Darkholme just yet, but the idea of keeping the DA going was starting to grow on him. Enough people had asked about it already, even though it was only the first day of school, and he had to admit it had been fun. Of course, Professor Darkholme had already demonstrated her ability to teach far better than Umbridge had. He himself didn't see a need for it, but perhaps she really did mean for it to just be a study group.

He was just two staircases away from Gryffindor tower, when Snape rounded the corner on him, glowering triumphantly. "Mr. Potter," he sneered. "Out and about for a stroll, are we?"

"I was on my way back to the common room," he replied, coolly. "Is there something you wanted?"

"You will address me with the proper respect," Snape hissed. "I would think that Dumbledore's absence would leave you with a need to err to the side of caution. I believe I told already that you were to report to me this morning in regards to your detention for the next month."

"You never said when."

"Professor!"

"There's no need to call me 'Professor', sir. I hardly think I qualify just yet."

Snape's nostrils flared, but Harry held his ground. Just as Snape looked as though he might lunge at Harry, though, a small body came dashing around the corner and skidded to a stop. Colin Creevey glanced back and forth between them for a second, then gulped sheepishly.

"Harry..." he spoke nervously, clutching a piece of parchment in his hand.

"Mr. Potter is presently busy," Snape spat, not looking Colin's way. "I suggest you go elsewhere!"

"But, Professor Snape..." Colin tried again. "Professor Dumbledore sent me. He asked that I find Harry and give him this!"

Colin held up the parchment in his hand, which Snape promptly snatched away and held up in his boney fingers. His eyes darted over the note for a moment, glancing back towards Creevey every few seconds, before finally crumpling it up.

"I will see you again, Potter," he snapped, throwing the note to the ground. "Count on it."

Colin picked up the note and handed it to him as Snape stormed off. "Here you go, Harry. Dumbledore said it was important."

"Thanks, Colin."

Harry circled back around towards the griffin statue that guarded the entrance to the headmaster's office, with Colin following him every step of the way. He'd grown used to the young Gryffindor's habit of idolizing him, yet the attention was still unsettling at times.

"So, Harry?" Colin began shyly. "Are you going to start the DA again soon?"

The question was beginning to annoy him. "I might as well," he sighed. "Everyone else seems interested in it." And it looked as though he wouldn't be able to take two steps today without someone asking him.

"I heard you're the new Quidditch captain," Colin went on, oblivious to Harry's change in mood. "Congradulations! Are you going to start tryouts soon, Harry?"

Harry nearly stopped in his tracks. He hadn't given one thought to Quidditch so far. So many people had pelted him with inquiries about the Defense Association that it had completely slipped his mind. He was going to have to ask someone on the team about how to go about doing that. Harry supposed he should just pick a day soon and announce it. The sooner he got it started, the better. There was no doubt in his mind that every other house captain would have already booked the Quidditch field by now.

"I'll let everyone know what day tryouts are going to be soon, Colin," he promised, as they reached the griffin statue. Harry had never been more happy to stand in front of it. Colin waved goodbye and hurried off, which left Harry thinking that Colin had brought up the tryouts for a reason. Sighing, he stood there for a moment trying to compose himself, realizing with a jolt that he'd never gotten the password. The piece of parchment Colin had delivered to him was still crumpled up in his hands. Unfolding it roughly, he scanned the letter written in Dumbledore's unique handwriting.

_Harry,_

_If possible, please meet me in my office at your earliest convenience. I have a matter to discuss with you that you might find interesting._

_P.S. I happen to like Cockroach Clusters_

_Professor Dumbledore_

"Cockroach Clusters," Harry said at once, folding the letter up. On cue, the statue leaped out of the way, revealing the winding staircase leading upward. Harry stepped on it and waited as it carried him all the way to the top. The door stood before him like some kind of omen, yet the moment he knocked, it swung open of it's own accord. The inside of Professor Dumbledore's office looked different to him now. A number of tables that'd once been cluttered with various devices and strange objects now looked barren. What had transpired the last time he was here came rushing back to him all at once, and Harry found himself wanting to leave. Before he could, the headmaster walked down from a bookcase behind his desk, smiling slightly.

"Hello, Harry. Having a good term so far?"

Dumbledore was greeting him warmly. Harry swallowed back his unease and nodded. "So far, Professor."

"Not even the end of your first day, and already a month's detention. I shall have to speak with Professor Snape later on, and explain your tardiness. I'm sure Remus will be relieved to hear you arrived without any further delays."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, unsure of what else to say. Dumbledore sounded distracted at the moment. He was looking at Harry as though they'd only recently met. Rather than be upset by it, Harry found it a little reassuring. Then he caught a glimpse of the headmaster's withered hand. The urge to leave again returned in full force. It seemed like only yesterday that he'd stood at Grimmauld Place, holding the Heart of Darkness. Harry had thought he might never see Dumbledore or anyone else that night. He'd been fully prepared to accept whatever came in order to rescue Rayne. Yet Harry had survived, endured a horror unlike anything he'd ever been prepared to face before. Now, as he watched Dumbledore, he found he wasn't sorry for any of it. Even the part that had cost his headmaster so much didn't feel like too great a price to pay.

"The reason I asked you to come here, Harry," Dumbledore went on. "Is that I understand there was an issue concerning the Ministry of Magic and your potions grade. You were hoping to be in Snape's class this year, correct?"

"Yes, sir. Professor McGonagal already explained to me this morning."

"Well, the thing is, Harry, you are still within your rights to learn potions at Hogwarts, only not under Professor Snape's tutilage. As he is the qualified Potions Master, it is his decision to accept whom he choses in his class. If there were another teacher here at Hogwarts who knew the principles of potions, however, and they were willing to set aside time to help you study for the N.E.W.T. level exams, I would have no objections."

Harry was confused. "Yes, sir."

"Harry, would you like to take potions in my office?" Dumbledore asked, up front. "Under my instructions, of course, and on an evening that is convenient for you?"

"You'd be willing to teach me potions, so I can become an Auror?"

"Just so long as you don't mind taking instructions from a barmey old codger like myself."

"No, sir! I'd be happy to." The ajulation he felt shocked him. Harry hadn't realized until then just how disappointed he had felt when he thought his dreams of being an Auror were dashed by Snape's meddling.

"Good, then I shall see you perhaps later on in the week? Until then, enjoy the rest of your week. Oh, and good luck with the new Quidditch team."

"I will, sir. Thank you!"

Harry felt himself lighten slightly as he headed back down the stairs. The tension felt in Dumbledore's office had melted away, leaving behind a joy in knowing he had beaten Snape at his own game. He hadn't lost yet, after all. There was still a chance that he could become an Auror. This feeling followed him all the way back to the Gryffindor common room, where Hermione and Ron were waiting for him.

"Harry, where were you?" Hermione asked, the minute he sat down. "What did Professor Darkholme want?"

"She asked me to start back the D.A.," he said. "I guess we'll be doing it, after all."

"What for?" Ron asked, worriedly. "I mean, does she really think we'll need it?"

"Harry, you spent all that time talking about the D.A.?" Hermione sounded suspicious. "What else did Professor Darkholme want?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, wondering at her concern. "I was on my way back, though, when Colin sent me a message from Dumbledore. He's agreed to teach me potions so I can become an Auror."

"That's great, Harry. If Dumbledore teaches you, you'll have no problem passing N.E.W.T. levels. You'll probably be busy over the next few months, though. Between running the D.A. and extra lessons with Dumbledore..."

"And Quidditch," Harry added. "I'm also Quidditch captain now."

"That reminds me," Ron broke in. "People have been asking me, hoping you gave me some clue as to when tryouts would be."

"I know. How did Wood or Angelina do it? I just thought we'd have them on Saturday, if that's alright."

"Sounds good with me. Only, are you going to make everyone try out, or just new recruits."

Ron was clearly worried about his position as Keeper for the Gryffindor team. His last match before the year was over with had gone quite to his advantage, yet Ron had a history of caving in under pressure. Harry hadn't even thought that he might have to replace his best friend for someone else. The look in Ron's eyes clearly showed he was worried.

"I think you should at least allow everyone to try out, Harry," Hermione spoke, eyeing between them. "You need to give everyone a fair chance. And who knows how many people will be giving it a try this year. You might find some new talent."

"Someone to replace me, in other words," Ron moaned, glaring.

"Honestly, Ron. I just mean that Harry has to remain impartial. If he wants to be Quidditch captain, he can't let his own personal feelings get in the way. It's just like running the D.A."

"You're comparing Quidditch to homework now?" Ron asked, incredulously. "Since when do you even care, Hermione?"

"For your information, Ronald, just because I find the sport barbaric at times doesn't mean I don't pay attention. I know just as much about Quidditch as you or anyone else. In fact, Krum was quite surprised when I mentioned..."

"So you talking about Krum now, is it?" Ron stood up. "Fine! See you later, Harry. I've got to get down to the Quidditch pitch and practice just so Hermione doesn't convince you to trade me off for someone else. Like Krum!"

The entire common room was watching as Ron stomped off out the door, forgetting his broomstick in the process. Hermione was staring after him for several seconds afterward, looking bemused. "Victor Krum doesn't even go to Hogwarts," she stated blankly. "He's been out of school for ages now. What's Ron going on about for?"

"No idea," Harry replied, keeping his head down.

"I mean, seriously! All I meant was you should give everyone in Gryffindor a chance to compete. Ron should know I never meant you to replace him."

"I know."

"He's actually quite good, you know. When he's got himself put together and all, naturally. That's not saying there isn't room for improvement, but I never suggested that he wasn't good enough to play."

"Right."

Hermione grew quiet for a moment, in which time Harry pretended to be engrossed with a page in his Herbology book that was regretably turned upside-down. "Well, I suppose I should be going," she said, at last. "I'm sure we'll all have quite a lot of homework by the end of the day. Maybe I should go by the library first and check out a few extra reference books. It shouldn't hurt, especially since my Arithmancy teacher warned me that this year would be especially difficult."

Harry's moment of peace did not last long. All too soon, he was racing along through the castle down to the Charms corridor for class with Professor Flitwick, who greeted Harry warmly as he took a seat in the spare room. Harry found paying attention in class a challenge without Hermione there to keep him focused. By the time Flitwick had dismissed them, after assigning two months worth of homework, Harry couldn't recall half of what he'd said.

Next, it was on to the greenhouses for Herbology. Professor Sprout spent the next hour explaining how to care and tend to a rather violent plant that'd been accidentally crossbred together. The Bulbous Tentacula kept snapping at students who strayed too close to it, while at the same time belching out pods that carried a fragrance reminiscent of Dudley's bathroom. Professor Sprout explained how they would each be given a special project this year, involving them creating and tending to their own crossbred specimen. For the rest of the class, though, Harry worked with two Ravenclaws as they chatted excitedly about what plants they would fuse together while attacking several Shrieking Wildferns with sheers.

Harry found himself missing Ron and Hermione more with each passing minute. When the bell finally rang, he was covered in dirt from head to toe, and his ears wouldn't stop ringing. There was just enough time for him to clean up and change out of his dirty robes before dinner. Hermione and Ron weren't sitting together, though Harry saw they each glanced up every few bits to stare while the other wasn't looking. Not wanting to get in the middle of another row, Harry instead took a seat just down from there next to Neville and Ginny, who scooted over to make room for him.

"Hello, Harry," Neville said, waving. "Having a good first day so far?"

"Brilliant," he said, his stomach roaring. "Just as soon as I can hear again, I'll be fine. Sprout had us trimming these ferns that screamed each time we cut them."

"Shrieking Wildferns," he nodded. "They're normally not that bad, unless you cut too close to the stems. You should probably just try to tune them out. Normally, they're quite doctle."

Harry suspected if he couldn't tune out the babbling Ravenclaws, the chances of him doing it with those ferns were slim. "Have you heard the latest, Harry?" Ginny asked, leaning forward.

From her expression, she'd been wanting to say this since he sat down. Ginny passed him a copy of the evening edition of the Daily Prophet that was already marked with the front page. Harry's eyes were immediately drawn to the headline, where below it lay a picture with a screaming woman standing on a set of steps over a young man's body.

"It's the Abbot's home," Ginny explained to him as he read. "They found her older brother's body on the steps outside their home, dead. The Dark Mark was hanging overhead. Someone came to pull her out of school earlier, I hear."

"It's terrible!" Neville said with great venom. "Isn't the Ministry doing something?"

"It doesn't say," Harry said, reading the article all the way through. "They admit the Dark Mark was there, but say there's no clear evidence that this was done by any of Voldemort's supporters. It says there's a chance it could be a feint to keep the Ministry off-guard."

"Bullocks," Neville swore. "We all know it was Death Eaters. It had to be!"

"I know," Harry nodded, throwing the paper down. "I know. And I've spoken with Professor Darkholme. She wants me to start the D.A. back up again. I've decided I'm going to, if that's alright with everybody else."

"About time," Ginny grinned. "When's our first meeting going to be?"

"I don't know. I still haven't arranged Quidditch tryouts yet. Plus, I've got a ton of homework to get started on tonight. So much for all the free time this year!"

It was with a heavy weight on his shoulders that Harry assended the stairs to the common room that evening. Hermione was already there with several books out in front of her at their usual table. Harry gathered together his from the dorm room, then trudged reluctantly back down to spend the next several hours going over Charms equations and studying up on what types of plants can be crossed, and how the process worked. It was after midnight before they finally finished and went to bed. Ron had spent the whole time laughing and joking with several fourth years, boasting over the twins joke shop and all the supposed 'inside information' he had on it.

Neville, Seamus, and Dean were already asleep when he stumbled through the door. He could hear Neville's light snoring coming through the dark as he made his way over to the bed. Someone had left the window open, and there was a light breeze coming through. Harry considered shutting it, but changed his mind and drew the curtains around his bed instead. The air was a bit chilly, but he warmed up once safely under the covers.

A light rain began to fall outside, and the sound of it put him to sleep. Harry had no idea how much time passed, but there was suddenly a loud shriek, and something heavy banged him on the forehead. Jumping up, he reached for his wand, which lit up before he could utter a sound. The curtains were still drawn, but a small bottle rolled off as he raised up and clattered to the floor. Harry looked up and spotted a horned owl gazing down at him for a moment, before taking flight again. Harry stumbled out of bed, getting caught in the curtains as he did so, and looked around helplessly for the bottle.

It had rolled over to the foot of Ron's bed, which was now occupied. He could hear Ron's whistled snores mixing in with Neville's as he tip-toed over and snatched the bottle up. No one stirred when he pulled the curtains back and held his wand up to have a better look. It was a bottle of Olde Firewhiskey with a piece of parchment sticking out of it. The moment Harry touched it, the paper came flying out and whizzed around his bed for a moment before unfurling at his feet. By the light of his wand, Harry recognized the handwriting at once, and felt his heart skip several beats.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope that this finds you well. By the time you read this, I will have gone into hiding. I hope that this means by doing so, you and I can one day see each other again. I have not forgotten you in these last few days, and it is my sincerest wish that you remember me fondly, too. The things that I've done to you are unforgiveable, I know, yet a part of me still wishes that you might find it within yourself to think well of me. I have taken steps to ensure that this owl will not be traced. The letter you now hold cannot be removed from the bottle by anyone but yourself. This is a very old charm I learned many years ago when I was stationed in Romania, working undercover to capture a particularly vicious werepanther._

_You must remember to take care of yourself, Harry. No one understands better than I do what it is like being alone with the weight of the world on your shoulders. Remember that no matter what might have happened, you will always have my support. Nothing else matters to me but your well-being. I would gladly die if it meant you could live._

_Many things are happening now. I can feel the Dark forces stirring now all around me. There is a war coming, Harry, a war that many people will not survive. I do not know what this means for us, or even if it can mean anything at all. My existence is something that neither side would tolerate if they learned of me. But so long as you are at Hogwarts, I know you are safe. Please keep that in mind, as I fight to keep myself alive. The future is never written in stone, Harry. It can be changed. Please do not try and send a message back to me. Your owl is much too recognizable, and this one has been given specific instructions not to linger. I think he didn't like that much, but I know he won't disobey me._

_I love you,_

_Rayne_

Harry re-read the letter four times, his grip on the sides growing tighter by the second, until it finally tore. He immediately repaired it, then scanned the words again for some clue, some sign of where he might find her. The words revealed nothing more to him that what they meant, though. He suspected she had written it to that very end. When he accepted there was no more to gain from it, Harry put the parchment away under his pillow and laid back down again. He hadn't expected to fall asleep again, but suddenly it was morning. The dim light streamed through a blanket of clouds, reflecting his mood.

He barely greeted Neville or Ron as he dressed for the day. His classes flew by like some vague dream, making him realize later that he would have to get himself together if he hoped to make it to the end of the year. One thought kept chasing through his head the whole time, relentless and unforgiving.

Where was Rayne?


	8. Chapter 8 Secret of the Marauder's Map

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 8

_**The Secret of the Marauder's Map**_

by Ri-kun

The sun had ducked it's head behind a thick curtain of clouds by Saturday morning. A light wind rustled through the trees, carrying with it a chill that made the September air feel slightly out of place. It was getting colder earlier this year, no doubt due to the rise in Dementor attacks. There had been another rash of them reported in the Daily Prophet yesterday. Hermione had spent all of breakfast with her face buried in the paper, deliberately ignoring Ron. They still hadn't made up from their fight yet, and Harry was doing his best to stay out of it. He already had more than enough on his plate.

The first week of school was up, and Harry was beginning to wonder if it would ever end. It seems strange to him how he'd once thought that no year would ever top the last, with the mounting piles of work and constant threats all around. Granted, none of the teachers other than Snape, of course, were plotting to have him declared a mentally unstable deviant. Dumbledore had lessened his punishment to spending the previous evening helping Filch polish the trophy room. He'd been grateful, but that had cut into the time needed to work on his Transfiguration essay for McGonagal. And then, there was all the Charms quizzes he hadn't had time to study for, plus the Herbology project he hadn't started her. With all this, it was a miracle he even remembered tryouts were today.

Harry had deliberated on Hermione's advice for the whole week in-between classes, mostly for Ron's benefit. He didn't like the idea of replacing anyone; their team had been one of the best Hogwarts had seen in years. Losing someone might put everyone at odds with him. On the other hand, he had seen several fourth years out on the pitch one afternoon while classes were out, and it looked like they flew very well. That had been what clenched his decision. Though he would hate to meet Ron's gaze if he were taken off the team, Harry had to chose what was best for the team over his own personal feelings, and just hope that Ron's confidence hadn't suffered any major blows recently.

And so, it was with a nervous heart and an empty stomach that Harry marched down to the Quidditch pitch that morning with his trusty Firebolt. He'd been too wound up to worry about eating anything, and his attention was so diverted that it took a moment to realize just how crowded the stands were. As he entered the Quidditch pitch, a roar went up through the crowd, and several people began chanting his name. He'd long grown used to this sort of treatment, but only during while an actual match was going on. Standing there amid what looked like half the Hufflepuff and Raveclaw houses, along with surprisingly a few Slytherin faces, he suddenly felt a little overwhelmed.

Deciding to ignore the onlookers, Harry walked up to the mass of people gathering around near the foot of the three ring goals. It looked like most of Gryffindor house had shown up, but as Harry drew near, he noticed something a little odd. There were quite a few students dressed in Quidditch robes that looked far too young. Not all of them he was sure belonged in his house, either. And it wasn't just with the younger crowd, either. One girl he was certain belonged in Ravenclaw, and Justin Finch-Fletchley of Hufflepuff was standing off to the side next to several younger boys, trying to blend unsuccessfully into the crowd.

Harry sighed, and motioned to get the crowd's attention. This proved to be easier than anticipated, for the moment he raised his hand, not only did the crowd fall silent, but so did the entire stadium. Harry tried to ignore this and spoke directly to the group in front of him.

"First order of business," he said, hoping his words sounded official and not nearly as silly to his own ears. "Anyone who is not from Gryffindor House, please leave. If you aren't a Gryffindor, you cannot try out for the Quidditch team. Secondly, first years from any house are not allowed to play for the house teams. First year Gryffindors should leave also."

It seemed like a reasonable request, but a number made faces like they were sorely disappointed. Several, mainly the girls, dissolved into throes of giggling and wandered off out of way, pointing back at him every few steps. Because of this, it took several minutes more before tryouts could begin. The mass of bodies had thinned out considerably, though, to the point that Harry now recognized several faces. Katie Bell was among the ranks, he was pleased to see, and so was Ron. Ron looked as though he might be a little ill, but nodded in Harry's direction when he walked past.

"We'll do this in order of positions," he explained, once everyone had lined up. "Everyone trying out for Chasers, step forward. The rest can wait up in the stands."

Harry blew his whistle and took to the air on his Firebolt. After everything else that'd happened, it felt wonderful to be up in the air again. The others took longer to get on their broomsticks, but then Harry remembered just how fast his Firebolt could go. He used the opportunity to soar around the pitch field once, cutting a few loops in the process just to let off steam. The crowd below had begun chanting his name again, and he had to admit it felt good. Swooping down low, he caught sight of several Hufflepuff girls huddled close together trying to get his attention. One of them looked like the strange girl that Ginny had pointed out to him on the train. She wasn't motioning to him like the others, but he thought she glanced up once as he soared overhead.

Everyone else was waiting for him, so Harry pulled out his wand and opened the chest down on the ground that held the Quidditch balls. It gave a shake once as the Bludgers tried to escape along with the Quaffle, but the straps held them tightly in place. The red ball was sent soaring up through the air into the crowd of broomsticks, and among them, Harry saw a flash of brilliant red hair. With a pleasant jolt, he realized Ginny was having a go at the position of Chaser, too.

Harry kept a higher altitude and did his best to keep an eye on everything that was happening. The first tryout didn't last very long. Several people slammed head-long into each other, while one Harry had to disqualify for attempting to hex the others off their brooms with a concealed wand. He made a rude gesture before leaving, but things proceeded well after that. Harry picked for his first two Chasers Katie Bell and Ginny, who proved to work very well with one another, and together had scored more points with the Quaffle than anyone else. The only survivors were boys, one of which looked like he was barely old enough to compete. Harry remembered his name was Euan Abercrombie, a second year.

Euan's body was tiny, but he held onto his broom tightly. Curious, Harry kept a closer eye on him as the tryouts continued. Because of his small frame, Euan managed to slip through and snag the Quaffle in mid-air a number of different times. He manuveured his broom rather well, too, if a little slow on the turns. Harry considered this for several minutes as the Chaser tryouts came to a close. Finally, he blew his whistle to bring the match to a close.

"Gryffindor's third Chaser is," he stated, loudly. "Euan Abercrombie."

Everyone looked shocked, but no one more so than Euan himself. Harry brought his Firebolt around beside him and gave the young Gryffindor a smile. "You flew really well, Euan. Welcome to the team!"

The rest were giving Harry looks of pure shock and disbelief. Euan, however, was trying to duck his head back into his robes as a couple began glaring up at him on their way down. The nasty looks didn't go away once they landed, but Harry laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder, getting his attention.

"Ignore them," he stated, giving Euan's shoulder a light squeeze. "I wasn't much younger than you when I first played for the team. You'll do fine!"

"Thanks," he said, sheepishly.

Harry blew his whistle again. "Second tryouts, Beaters! Let's go!"

The Beater tryouts took a lot longer, but now Harry was feeling more at ease with himself. He was pleased with his decisions so far, but the flying Bludgers made it more difficult to pay attention to what was going on. Every few minutes, one would veer off it's coarse to whip by near his head. Harry supposed they were so used to making a play for him after all these matches. The Beaters themselves were having a harder time keeping up. Several people got whacked over the head and across the nose by accident. Others got frustrated, and tried throwing their clubs towards the Bludgers themselves, only to have them wind up in the stands amid some very angry onlookers. When Harry finally blew his whistle again, it was with great relief.

"Colin and Dennis Creevey," he said, looking across at the bruised and blackened faces. "You will be our new Beaters. Anyone needing to go to the Hospital Wing should do so now. Next tryouts are for Keeper, in five minutes."

Almost everyone nosedived to the ground to limp up the long walkway back towards Hogwarts. Colin Creevey and his brother lingered long enough to give Harry twin enthusiastic thumbs up before desending. Dennis had a knot on his head that was visible from way up, and it looked as though several teeth had been knocked from Colin's mouth. Neither of them had flown nearly as well as Fred and George, but Harry hadn't expected that much. With a lot of practice, the two could do real well, though.

Hermione was waiting for him when he brought his broom to a stop over the grass. Next to her was Ron, though he was keeping a careful distance, and looking much worse than before. A sullen look had fallen over him. The next tryouts would be for the position of Keeper, what Ron had played the year before. Harry was worried, and hoped it didn't show too much on his face.

"That was horrible," Hermione said, worriedly. "I've never seen anyone act that way."

"It could have been worse," he promised, scratching the top of his head. "You never saw how Dudley acted when he first got his Smeltings stick. How are you feeling, Ron?"

The expression on his face said it all, but Ron swallowed and managed to nod. "You'll do fine," Harry swore, hoping privately he was right. "Hermione..."

"I'm going back up to the stands," she told them. "Good luck, Ron. You'll be alright!"

Before she ran off, Hermione placed a light kiss on Ron's cheek. About ten shades of red creeped up his face one after the other, until it looked like an overripe tomato from Hagrid's garden. "I'm glad the Chaser tryouts are over already," Harry commented, lightly. "Ginny might have mistaken the Quaffle for your head, otherwise!"

"Shut up, Harry!" But Harry noticed that Ron's footsteps were a bit springier as he mounted his Cleansweep and took position in front of the three rings. Motioning for Katie, Ginny, and Euan, he clutched his whistle as they gathered round. "Don't let up," Harry told them, sternly. "Give it everything you've got."

They each nodded, Ginny meeting Harry's eyes with a knowing glint, then took to the air as the whistle sounded. Ron actually surprised Harry by keeping his head in the game in the beginning. He blocked the first two shots with apparent ease, then followed that up by flipping through the air and using the tail end of his broom to swat the third shot away. Ginny was looking at him, impressed, and went in for a choke shot that Ron rebounded through the air right into Katie Bell's side. His face showed him wincing at the blow, but Katie merely snatched the ball before it could touch ground and swooped back up through the air.

Harry thought Ron really had improved, after all. Perhaps it was his jinxing by thinking this that things took the direction they did. No sooner had the thought formed in his head did Ron miss a particularly easy save to his left. He missed another shot by flying up too high and nearly slipping off his broom. Harry feared the worst for a moment, but then Ron put himself back in one piece and sent the Quaffle flying to the other end of the pitch. It ended with him saving seven out of ten shots, with the last miss coming before Harry blew his whistle.

Ron settled back down, trying to smile Harry's way, as a solid-looking seventh year came stomping past him. Harry thought his name was Xander Youngblood, and noticed that he pushed Ron out of the way a little too quickly in his haste to grip Harry's fingers. He didn't smile as he took to the air, with Harry following fast to watch from overhead. When he blew his whistle, Youngblood missed the first shot made by Euan, and swung so far out that he was nearly bucked straight off his broom. Several people down below laughed as Youngblood struggled to right himself and get back on. Meanwhile, Euan was high-fiving Ginny and giving Katie an embarassed thumbs up.

Youngblood glared at them as he climbed back on and moved to guard the center ring. Harry expected him to make the same mistake as last time, but was shocked when Youngblood began moving around erratically at first, trying to guard all three goal posts at the same time. It didn't look like this would work to his favor, but Harry was caught off guard again when Youngblood managed to make some impressive blocks with one hand. In the end, he was tied with Ron at having seven out of ten saves.

There didn't seem to be as many people trying out for the Keeper position. The tryouts went by much more quickly, with more than one potential making only one or two saves out of ten. Others came closer, but nowhere near to the number Ron and the Youngblood seventh year did. At last, it came down to a draw between them.

"The Chasers will shoot three goals at you," Harry explained to each of them. "Whoever scores the most is Keeper. Ready?"

"I go first," Youngblood said at once, gruffly. He was somehow even taller and broader than Ron, who looked as though he wanted to argue, but backed away after a moment. Harry watched with worry across his face as Youngblood blocked the first two shots with much greater ease than before. It looked as though Ron's days as Keeper for Gryffindor might be numbered. Then, something odd happened.

Youngblood had both hands stretched out to block the final shot. It was heading straight for him in a perfect arc. Harry watched with a mounting dread in his stomach as the Quaffle soared towards him, and then abruptly changed direction. It was almost subtle enough that it might have been a trick of the sunlight, except that the sun was still blanketed behind a thick layer of clouds. The Quaffle didn't travel far; only ever so slightly to the left of Youngblood, who didn't notice the change in time to respond. The Quaffle sailed right through the middle hoop as a roar went up through the stadium. At first, Harry thought everyone below had seen the same thing, but then realized they were cheering.

Youngblood didn't look pleased in the least as Ron took over his place. This time, he didn't miss a single shot, blocking the third one by adding a little twist to his broom, sending it back Ginny's way. Rather than looking happy, however, she was frowning as Ron landed his broom and was met with a swarm of Gryffindor well-wishers. Her face remained frozen in that same position long after they'd touched the ground. Hermione ran up to him, smiling ear to ear.

"Well done, Harry," she said. "Looks like you've got yourself a new team."

"The tryouts aren't over yet," he told her. "There's still one more position to fill."

Ginny and Katie both looked at him, confused. "What position?" Hermione asked him. "Harry, every other position on the team has been filled already."

"Except Seeker," he said pointedly. "We still have to see about that."

"What for?"

"Harry, no one's a better Seeker than you," Ginny said flatly. "In all of Hogwarts! You're the Gryffindor Captain. You're supposed to play Seeker."

"What happened to being equal?" he wondered, looking to Hermione for support. Hermione, however, nodded at what Ginny said.

"She's right, Harry. You belong on the team. Besides, I don't think there's anyone brave enough to challenge you."

"We're all with you, Harry," said Katie, and Harry felt himself grow a little warm. "You're the only Seeker we want."

Harry smiled, touched. "Alright then, I guess."

"Good," Hermione grinned, backing up. "Well, I'm going to go tell Ron congradulations. See you back in the common room!"

Hermione turned around to search for Ron, and frowned when she spotted him surrounded by a pack of girls. Lavender Brown had one arm draped about his shoulders lightly, as though she were trying to convince Ron to wear her as a coat. Shaking his head, Harry turned back to look towards Ginny, who was back to her earlier stern face.

"Can I talk to you for a minute, Harry?" she said softly, grabbing him by the arm. "It's important."

"Uhh, I just remembered!" Katie all but shouted. "I need to finish up a... err, Charms essay for... Professor Flitwick. Have fun, you two!" And she was gone.

Ginny led Harry over to a uncrowded section of the Quidditch pitch. They had to walk much further than Ginny expected on account of the giggling hoard that was once again attempting to follow Harry. After several dirty looks from Ginny, they finally went away scowling back to where Ron was still huddled in a center of mostly girls.

"So, what did you need to tell me?" Harry asked lightly. "Is something the matter?"

"Youngblood didn't miss that last shot, Harry," Ginny whispered gravely, looking around him at Ron. "It was headed straight for him."

"I know." Harry paused. "I wasn't sure anyone else noticed. It was weird, like the ball just suddenly changed direction on him."

"That's exactly what happened! Only the Quaffle had a little help from Hermione."

"What?!"

Ginny nodded solemnly. "I almost didn't see her in time. She had her wand tucked away up under her sleeve. Dezmelda was standing in front of her, so no one else saw what she was doing. I just happened to fly overhead as she sent the jinx towards the ball. She made it veer away from Youngblood so he would miss it. Harry, shouldn't you do something?"

This was precisely what he'd been worried she would ask. "Like what?"

Ginny looked away, and said softly, "It's not like Ron's the one who cheated, but technically at least, Youngblood did play better than him. Ron's a good Quidditch player, so long as his head can stay out of his arse." Harry chuckled. "But Hermione should have stayed out of it."

"Do you really want Youngblood to play Keeper in Ron's place?" he asked her, honestly.

"Are you kidding me?" she asked, making a face. "He's a complete moron. Luna told me one time how he tried to curse her hair into knots while they were in Ancient Runes. I wouldn't play with that sod if the Quidditch World Cup was at stake. I just thought you should know, is all."

"Thanks for telling me," he replied, earnestly. "And don't mention any of this to Ron, please."

"Right," she nodded, grinning. "That'll make him play as bad as last year, and you'll have no choice but to put Youngblood in!"

He and Ginny laughed together for a moment. The pitch had finally begun to thin itself out, and it was safe for Harry to head back up to the school without fear of being followed every step of the way. Something occured to him about halfway up.

"Quidditch has gotten a lot more popular this year," he said, thoughtfully. "I guess everyone needs something to take their minds off of what's going on outside. Has your mum said anything about taking you out of school yet?"

Two Hufflepuffs had been taken out of the Great Hall the other day. Their parents had shown up out of the blue to have them withdrawn from school. There were rumors going around that a number of other students' parents were considering the same thing. Some were outraged by it, yet others looked as though it might not be such a bad idea.

"Mum hasn't said anything to me about it," Ginny replied. "She probably feels better knowing I'm closer to Dumbledore. And to you, of course. You have saved my life once, so she's most likely hoping that I'll keep close to you."

"Oh." Harry remembered how Ginny had once idolized him for that very reason.

"And it isn't Quidditch that people are so interested in," she went on, as they entered the courtyard. "It's you, Harry."

Harry looked at her, baffled by her statement. "Me?"

"Yes, Harry, you! Everyone knows now that you haven't been lying. All those horrible things the Ministry did to you, putting that awful Umbridge woman in charge of Hogwarts, and making the Daily Prophet write stories about you being unstable and deranged; people know the truth now, Harry. They believe you really are the Champion. And it's not just that, either. You're... different." Ginny stopped as she said this, and looked at him closely.

"You're not the same person as you were last year. I'm not the only one who's noticed it, either. Ron keeps going on about how Seamus and Dean are pelting him with questions about her, and I've lost track of how often Romilda Vane stops to interogate me. She's convinced you got a tattoo over the summer on your left arse cheek."

"It's on my right shoulder blade, actually," he mumbled.

Ginny's eyes widened. "Really? What of?"

"A Hungarian Horntail dragon."

She nodded, understanding. "Rayne?"

"I didn't get it for laughs. There were... circumstances."

She seemed to think on this for a second. "Can I see it?"

Harry gulped at the thought. "Maybe later. Not right now, anyway."

She grinned at him. "Romilda was convinced it was the Hogwarts crest! Wait till I tell her how far off she was. She's going to be furious!"

"Wait, Ginny!" he cried out, horrified, but Ginny was already making tracks for the tower. "I didn't mean you could tell everybody!"

*****

The coming weeks saw Harry's workload triple in size. The amount of homework each class held were enough to put even Hermione on edge, and she was slowly reverting back to her old ways of giving detentions for little things like talking too loudly, or bumping into the table she sat at by mistake. Harry wasn't fairing much better. He still hadn't thought of what to do about his Herbology project, and had been meaning to pull Neville aside for advice. Neville, however, was busy with his own cross plant, a mimbulus mimbletonia that had been mixed with Gillyweed roots so it could be grown underwater, and scarely had the time to talk with anyone. Harry couldn't imagine why anybody would want to breed a plant that could spray people with smelly gunk while they were underwater, but said nothing for the moment. He vowed to make the time to ask for help later, though.

Professor Darkholme was putting them all through their paces in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Everyone listened carefully in her class for details about whatever she taught, clearly hoping to gain a foothold in the race to become her Assistant. Hermione was asking questions at every other sentence, to the point that Ron snickered whenever her hand shot up. The relationship between those two had grown quite icy. Harry hadn't mentioned a word to Ron about how Hermione had unknowingly helped him cheat, nor had he brought it up to Hermione's face. Whatever her reasons had been for it, she could work it out on her own. Harry wasn't about to play mediator for them again.

He had his own problems!

Much as it pained him to admit it, it was much harder to keep up without Hermione around for each class. Transfiguration was especially difficult, and Professor McGonagal made it a point to call on him as much as possible. With so fewer students in his class now, it wasn't as easy for Harry to keep a low profile. He was remembering what Ginny had told him about people looking at him differently. Everywhere he went now, there were whispers and stares. He'd endured the same thing the year before, only not for the same reason. The looks of awe in people's faces now were unmistakable. And more than ever, Harry was finding himself thinking about the D.A. He had promised to start it back, though Professor Darkholme had yet to bring it up again. He supposed she was waiting to see who her assistant would turn out to be, though that hardly made sense to him.

For their next test, Professor Darkholme had them follow her outside to the courtyard, where she had set up a rather complex obstacle course that would've made Professor Lupin jealous. Each one of them had to travel down through the lines that formed a sort of maze without stepping out of them, and deal with each problem as they came to it. Harry had done this sort of thing in his fourth year during the Third Task, so it was hardly as challenging. When it was his turn, he made it through in record time, getting caught up only at one point with a particularly vexing Grease Charm over a small portable swamp bed.

"Well done, Potter," she congradulated.

Ron had to start over when his foot landed outside one of the maze lines, and on his second trip, he found himself confronted with a rattling wardrobe that turned out to be full of spiders. After several minutes of screaming, they finally got him calmed down enough to where he could stumble up to Madame Pomfrey for a Calming Drought. Hermione went next, and looked rather smug with herself, until she got confused in a corner that made her see everything upside down. Harry almost gave away the answer, but then remembered that Professor Darkholme was right next to him. She seemed to hover very close to wherever he stood during class.

"Very well done," she said, when everyone had gone. "I was pleased with the results, overall. Class is now officially dismissed."

This turned out to be the easiest part of Harry's day. In Herbology, he failed to answer two questions Professor Sprout asked him, and was given an essay to write as a result on the successes of magical crossbreeding. After his classes, he had Quidditch practice with his new team, who performed poorly due to the rain that set in halfway through. Even with the poor visibility, Harry thought they were still coming along well. Euan Abercrombie did better with staying on his broom this time, and was shaping up to be a fair flyer, able to keep up with Katie and Ginny overall. Ron had reverted back to his old ways of choking under pressure, due to the crowds of students that seemed to flock up whenever they scheduled the field.

After several soggy hours, Harry finally called it quits and followed everyone back up to the castle. The rain was getting worse, to the point he could barely see. On a very slick step, Harry lost his footing and stumbled backwards. Throwing out his hands, he struck the ground hard against something that felt like a sharp rock. Pain coursed through his hand, and he saw a jagged cut running down through the inside of his palm, smeared with brown mud.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Ginny and Katie each asked at once.

"Fine," he muttered, turning pink. "Just cut myself on a rock is all."

He'd once had all the bones in his left arm regrown, so this was hardly the stuff of legends. Ginny insisted he go up to Madame Pomfrey's to have her take a look at it, but Harry swore he was fine. "I'll go tomorrow morning before class starts," he promised her. "Right now, I just want to get dry."

They all made their way up to the corridor where the Fat Lady's portrait hung. She eyed each of them distainfully at the sight of their dripping wet clothes, but swung open when they gave the password, 'Poppy seed.'

"Harry, oh Harry!" Hermione waved, getting up from the table she was sitting at, holding up a plainly-wrapped parcel. "This just came for you. Hedwig brought it in just a minute ago. It's from Remus!"

Harry took it from her and looked around. "Thanks, Hermione. Where's Ron? Didn't he come up with everybody else?"

Hermione scowled and didn't meet his eyes. "He's _busy_ at the moment," she said, the words oozing with venom. "I caught sight of him through the window, talking with Lavender Brown. I suspect he'll be along shortly."

Harry wondered if Hermione had expected Ron to show some form of graditude in exchange for her helping him make Gryffindor Keeper, but wisely chose not to ask. The parcel was wrapped with thin, cheap paper that tore easily. Inside was a very familiar robe that glittered with silver like moonlight, and a note scribbled hastely.

_It's high time I sent this back to you._

_James would have wanted you to have it. Therefore, it belongs with you._

_Take care,_

_Remus_

"My Invisibility Cloak. I had to leave it on the train," he explained, holding it. "Because of Malfoy."

"You left it on the train?" Hermione asked, looking shocked.

Harry didn't hear her, though. Holding the Cloak made Harry feel as if a missing part of him had finally returned. Unable to resist, he threw it around his shoulders and watched as his lower body faded from sight. Smiling, he looked at Harry with michief in his eyes. Now that his Cloak was back, he knew exactly what he wanted to do with it. Taking his Firebolt with him, Harry ran up the stairs to his dormatory and flung the door open.

"Oh, hey Harry," Neville said, looking up from his plant. "Seamus and Dean were looking for you earlier. Dean said they needed to talk to you about something important."

"That's nice," Harry replied, throwing his trunk open. Gathering up everything he would need, he searched a moment more through the bottom of the trunk, grinning when his bloodied hand closed around the Marauder's Map. Grasping it, he pulled everything under his Cloak and tossed the hood over his head.

"See ya, Neville!" he waved, invisible.

As Quidditch captain, Harry was well within his rights to use the prefects' bathroom, but Filch had a notorious habit of catching Harry whenever he was outside of Gryffindor tower, and always found some excuse to make up outlandish punishments for him. Plus, Harry was eager to use his Invisibility Cloak again, and this was the perfect opportunity. The Marauder's Map was a necessity for sneaking about, as it gave away the positions of everybody in the castle.

Harry waited until the portrait swung open again, then quickly dashed out into the hall. The portrait swung closed, leaving him alone still dripping wet. Quickly, he yanked out the Map and lit up his wand. With the light, Harry could now see there was something odd. The Marauder's Map looked to have already been activated. Supposedly, Hermione and Ron were the only ones other than him who knew how to work it. Them, and the Weasley twins, but Harry doubted they would have given away the secret of some much of their success.

Opening it up, Harry saw himself standing outside next to the Fat Lady. The little dot that had his name overhead was now jumping up and down excitedly, waving it's tiny hands at him. 'This way!' a small bubble said to him. The Map then enlarged his view of the hold castle, keeping one small window with him still in it open. It now showed an area on the second floor, far to the east end of the castle. It was way out of his way, and Harry had no idea why the Map was showing this to him now. The area had a great big X over the top of it, and was marked as 'Top Secret'.

"Top Secret," Harry read, looking at it closely. "What secret?"


	9. Chapter 9 Cloak and Dagger

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 9

_**Cloak and Dagger**_

by Ri-kun

Harry stood there for a moment longer, wondering what could be wrong with the map. He had already taken out his wand and tapped it against the surface of the parchment several times, using the words 'Mischief Managed'. That should have cleared it, but the figure of himself waving wildly under the Invisibility Cloak remained along with the area shown as 'Top Secret.' He even tried the activation words, 'I solemnly swear that I'm up to not good!' That didn't work either.

Several Gryffindors were headed his way, and Harry was still standing in front of the Fat Lady's portrait, dripping wet. Ducking to the side, he waited quietly as they gave the password and stepped through to the common room, one pausing for a second to note the small wet place on the floor. Harry waited until the Fat Lady swung back again, then crept off for the fifth floor. He decided to put the Map out of his mind for the moment. The only person who might know what was going on would be Professor Lupin. Harry could send a letter to him tonight after everyone had gone to bed. The Map still worked, technically, only each time he paused to check it for signs of Filch or Ms. Norris, the little figure of him would resume it's wild bouncing.

When Harry reached the statue of Boris the Bewildered, he looked left for the fourth door and uttered the words _'Scrubbing Bubbles.'_ The door swung open on it's own, allowing Harry access. Once inside, he threw the Cloak off himself and folded both it and the Map up carefully. The prefects' bathroom was still the same as he'd remembered the last time. Of course, now he was allowed to be up here, so there was no real danger of being caught for anything. The mermaid up in the painting hanging overhead gave a sly wave at him as he stripped and began playing with the different faucets.

It took a while for the great bathtub to fill all the way up. Part of this was due to his love of playing with the various effects each spiggot produced. In addition, there appeared to have been several new ones installed. Harry amused himself as the water rose by turning on and off one faucet that caused the entire tub to churn and bubble. Another one caused fluffy pink clouds to rise up over the water's surface. When the water finally touched the rim of the tub, he closed them all off and climbed in.

The water was frightfully hot, and it took him several wincing minutes to adjust his body to the temperature. Each movement sent hot stings all over his body at first, so Harry opted to remain leaned up against the edge for the time being. He noted after a moment that it wasn't nearly so difficult to keep his head above the surface this time.

Gradually, the water's temperature did lower a bit, enough for Harry to try several laps back and forth from one end to the other. His swimming was still rather clumsily, but as his feet could now touch the bottom, it was easier. The warmth eased the tension in his body out gradually, and slowly Harry found himself drifting off. He kept his mind preoccupied by thinking on the D.A., and whether or not Darkholme intended for him to keep leading it in spite of whoever became her assistant. Hermione had not looked happy at all at his outperforming her. The duel so far had been the worse of the two ordeals. The maze was relatively easy, almost to the point that Harry had wondered a few times if some of the less complicated traps had been a kind of diversion. Thinking on what he might cover this year, and whether their new professor would want to have a say in it, was still not enough to keep him awake. The Quidditch practice had taken a lot out of him, and being in such a warm place made his eyes flutter shut.

Harry gave up fighting it after a moment, and let his body drift lazily over the surface. It was oddly nice just relaxing this way, not thinking about anything in particular. A couple of times, he thought he heard something moving around in the distance, but dismissed it without looking up. The sound of the door opening would have alerted him to a presence, and anyone who came in here would see he wished to be left alone.

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because suddenly a pair of hands were tracing lightly over his chest and stomach. Harry raised up groggily, noting that he'd at some point drifted back over to the side and was gripping it. Someone was laying halfway across him, and staring up with deepest eyes he remembered seeing. Blinking, he tried to think through the fog clouding his brain. Rayne's face came into view then, smiling up at him.

"Shhh," she whispered, placing a finger lightly over his lips. "I don't have long. Hope you don't mind the intrusion, but I needed to see you."

"Rayne?" he mumbled, confused.

"Don't be afraid, Harry," she assured him, pleadingly. "She doesn't control me anymore. You took care of that, remember? I am my only master now."

She was talking about Yuzuho, he suspected. Harry suddenly had a vision of a young child blanketed by flames howling in pain and terror. Her body was disintegrating before his very eyes, the Heart of Grindelwald laid open for him to see. The water was abruptly cold, and he shivered. Rayne leaned away from him, then, but he instinctively grabbed hold of her.

"Harry..." she breathed.

He was kissing her, then. His arms had wrapped around her like a snake, trapping her to his chest. Rayne faltered for the briefest of seconds, then leaned in and seized hold of him as she kissed him in return. Her mouth traced along his hard, taking in every aspect of it. Harry groaned then, feeling himself stiffen, and sheepishly tried to back away a little. Rayne noticed the problem at once, but instead reached down and squeezed both his arse cheeks, pulling him in closer. Caught off-guard, he fell backwards a little against edge, but the water braced his fall.

Harry found himself clutching the edge once more; Rayne was now kneeling between his legs coyly. Her fingers stroked along the outer side of his tight, making him gulp. It tickled a little, but this only encouraged her assault. Eyeing his aroused state directly in front of her, she looked up at him for a moment, then boldly leaned forward. Harry was shocked as his entire body stiffened like a board. His mind was overwhelmed at once by the maddenly attack on his senses. Floating there ridgedly as though under the Petrificus spell, it was all he could managed to stare at Rayne cross-eyed while her head bobbed up and down slowly, then faster and faster.

Her fingers traced underneath where his pride hung, batting them back and forth as a kitten might. They were drawing up now, as he felt himself getting closer to the edge. Harry took in a ragged breath to warn her, but she was already one step ahead by grabbing hold and tugging ever so carefully. It still hurt, but the pain shockingly mingled with the mind-numbing pleasure she was giving to him. Instead, he blew the air from his lungs in a rush, and gasped for more as she began something new and different. With her left hand, Rayne now traced his other opening with a finger, lightly touching the outer area playfully. Each stroke, combined with what she did with her mouth and other hand, was too much for him to bear. Adding to all this was the fact that she'd starting using her tongue in some strange, yet tiltilating, way.

He had no words to warn her with this time. Moaning now with every other breath, Harry arched his back impossibly out of the water and let loose a howl that reverberated off the walls, loud enough to send the mermaid tumbling from her rock. He exploded then, rushing up to fill her mouth completely. Rather than spit it out, Rayne swallowed again and again, taking every last bit of him into herself. Leaning up over his limp body, she kissed him full on the mouth, stroking what was left out with her hand. Harry could taste himself on her lips, but found it wasn't too unpleasant.

His eyes fluttered closed, then, too exhausted to remain open. He wanted to hold her in his arms, but fatigue prevented them from raising any higher than the water's surface. Her weight shifted off of him, and he gave a febble whimper of protest.

"Don't worry, Harry," she reassured him. "I'm right here. I'm always here."

Comforted, Harry lay back and let the rocking of the water lull him back to sleep. When his eyes opened weakly again, the water had grown colder. She was still there, looking down at him with an odd expression on her face. Puzzled, Harry remembered then that he wasn't wearing his glasses, and raised up.

And screamed!

"Myrtle!"

Moaning Myrtle looked at him through morose, bespectacled eyes as Harry scrambled away from her in fear. Unfortunately, he realized too late that there were virtually now places left to escape to. His clothes were lying in a bundle next to his Invisibility Cloak far on the other side of the enormous tub, near the edge. The suds had dwindled down to practically nothing, leaving him with no cover. He'd apparently been asleep for longer than he'd realized. Even the mermaid in the photo was snoring softly.

Desperate, Harry kept himself as low in the water as possible, covering all the important parts with his hands. As inadequate as this was, surprisingly, it was far better than nothing. Myrtle seemed to find his distress amusing, and she eyed him coyly for a moment.

"Back to your old bad habits again, aye Harry?"

Harry frowned. "I have every right to be here, Myrtle. I'm Qudditch Captain now, so it's you who shouldn't be here. This is a boys' bathroom, remember?"

He should have remembered before now of Myrtle telling him about her fondness for slipping in whenever some of the prefects were bathing. She had shared this bit of information during his fourth year when he'd snuck in to try and work out one of the clues for the Triwizard Tournament. This time was even more embarassing, given he was still suffered from lingering reactions of the dream he'd just had.

When had his hands gotten so small?!

"What did you want, Myrtle?" he demanded, eyeing his clothes on the other end.

"Hmph! I just came here hoping to find a friend. What's your excuse?"

"I was taking a bath. Didn't you notice?"

"Really?" Myrtle turned away and frowned skeptically. "It looked more like you'd fallen asleep. I was hoping you might drown, and then we could spend more time together. You never did come back to visit me, you know!"

"I've been busy," he stated, giving up. If she'd seen this much, there was really no point in dragging things out. Besides, Myrtle was a ghost, so it wasn't as though she could really do anything about it.

"You promised to come back and see me," she whined, sticking her lower lip out as he treaded water. "But I suppose that's alright. I've come to expect very little from boys over the years."

"How nice," he said, climbing out of the water. "You haven't seen anything odd going on around here, have you?"

"Why would you care?" she sniffed, drifting his way while he toweled off. "It's not like the feelings or opinions of ghosts matter much to you. Unless you need me to help you with some strange thing or another, I've barely spoken to you at all!"

"Yes, well..." Harry wasn't sure why he'd asked her that. He supposed what he really wanted was to ask Moaning Myrtle whether she'd noticed anyone entering or leaving the Prefects' bathroom in the last hour or so. His mind was still reeling from the dream he'd just had. Rayne had been so _there_, while he was sleeping. It was almost like she had really come back to see him. It wasn't as though his dreams hadn't been vivid before, but usually that only occured when he were dreaming about Voldemort. Of course, the link they shared had been strangely quiet since the battle down in the Ministry of Magic.

Myrtle had been talking the whole time he was lost in thought. Harry only half listened as he put his clothes back on. They were still damp from the rain earlier, which made things very uncomfortable. Taking his wand out, he performed a simple Drying Charm on them while Myrtle prattled on endlessly behind him.

"...and then she had the nerve to tell me my hair was too greasey! Honestly, I'd never been more insulted in my whole life. I spent the rest of that afternoon in one of the stalls sobbing, just like the friend I mentioned to you. Of course, all they want to talk about is you, Harry."

Harry finished up by tossing his Cloak over him. "Goodnight, Moaning Myrtle."

"Wait!" she cried out. "Will you come and visit me again soon?"

"Myrtle," he froze, his hand on the doorknob. "For the last time, you live in a girls' bathroom! I was never supposed to be in there in the first place, so unless you've got a pewter cauldron full of Polyjuice Potion you need me to dispose up, stop asking."

Harry left before Myrtle could make anything more out of that. The corridor was clear, thankfully, but as he checked the Marauder's Map, it showed Filch coming down a staircase not to far up ahead. The Map was still showing the strange area marked off to him. Harry decided to cut across to the other end of the hall and head up. It was slightly out of his way, but he would rather shiver quietly for a bit longer than risk another round of being exposed to Filch's Dark Detector. Upon nearing the stairway, Harry saw someone was approaching from the opposite end. Debating for a moment, he turned around and took another passageway, only to find that area being guarded as well.

Checking the Map once more, he saw there were a number more people out this late than usual. None of them appeared to be students, either. A handful Harry recognized as Hogwarts staff. Hagrid's name was moving back and forth near a crooked painting near the back exit. Of course, members of the Order would be at Hogwarts now, patroling the hallways. Harry remembered hearing Hermione talk about it weeks ago. He should have remembered, but the Map's strange behavior had caught him off his guard. Plus, he hadn't anticipated being in the bath so late. It looked as though he were going to have to take a much longer route if he wanted to avoid detection. The Cloak would keep him from being see, but still Harry felt it wise to avoid running into as many Order members as possible. As he set off, Harry noted that Remus' name wasn't anywhere to be found.

Deciding this was something to think about later, Harry set off on his roundabout quest, finding himself on several detours as he kept coming across Order members on watch in some decidedly narrow areas. Eventually, Harry gave up taking the quickest route, and reluctantly set off for the bottom floor. It looked as though this area of the castle, while heavily guarded, was also occupied by Order members in places he had optimal room to sneak past. As he slunk along with one eye on the Map at all times, he realized too late that he'd hearded himself near the area where the Map had been pointing to. His little figure on the magical parchment was waving excitedly now, gesturing him to move towards it.

Harry chewed on this thought for a moment, debating what to do. The area didn't look as though it had many Order members watching it. Then again, he was already way behind on his homework, and there would surely not be much time left once he made it back. Adding another detour would just make things worse. Still, it would be interesting to see why the Marauder's Map wanted him to go there. Addedly, the Map might theoretically reset itself once he'd done so.

Coming to a juncture, Harry stood there for a moment struggling with his decision. A mischevious grin covered his face as he thought for a second what Sirius might have said about it. This clenched it for him, and he turned left with a determined stride towards the place marked on the Map.

The trip turned out to be not as far as he'd guessed. The Map lead him down a darkened corridor that had rusted armor laid out on each side. The suits appeared to have seen better days. Dust coated them, and Harry saw several spider webs hanging from their weapons. This was clearly a place Filch had neglected for whatever reason during his daily scourge. Though none of the armor moved, Harry still had the impression he was being watched from something lurking behind the helmets. He quickened his pace further, and soon found himself standing in the exact place as the Map showed.

There was, however, nothing here of apparent importance. His little figure seemed to think otherwise, though, and now gestured for him to walk over to the far right wall. Harry did so, hoping the Map might show him some clue as to what this was all about. There was only one portrait hanging here, a framed photograph that looked like it might have come out of Colin Creevey's camera. The images inside of it were moving, however, and one or two of them waved as though they knew Harry was standing right there. Checking to make sure the coast was clear, he pulled off his Cloak and laid it aside. The light from his wand shone brightly now, and Harry held the tip close so he could see better.

A spectacled young boy wearing a Head Boy badge with messy black hair saluted him, then leaned against the shoulder of another lad with equally dark but much longer hair, laughing as though they shared some enormous private joke. Two other boys were with them, one holding a rather thick book in his hands, and the other a squat-looking misfit with a pointed face. The last member was a girl who stood near the first one, holding onto his hand rather firmly. She was eyeing them all with mixed expressions, mostly annoyance, though in the case of the boy who was reading, her face softened considerably.

Harry swallowed, though that did little to force back the lump that had grown in his throat. Each Marauder waved to him one after the other as they had before when he was unseen. Somehow, they had all known he was there. Harry touched the area of the photo where he mother stood with a shaking hand. Then, he saw an inscription that someone had left just below, scratched in stone rather roughly.

_'Friends Forever!'_ it read.

Harry checked the Map once more, mostly to have something that would distract him, and saw he was now tapping the picture lightly with his wand. Leaning forward, he did the same while keeping one eye on the Map at all times now. The figure of him was shouting the word, 'Moony' rather clearly. Harry saw what he needed to do, and whispered softly.

"Moony."

He then repeated the next word with less relish. "Wormtail."

"Padfoot," followed.

And finally, "Prongs."

Then the Map gave him a new name. "Flora?" he tried, confused.

The picture slid upwards, revealing a small compartment underneath. It looked like a kind of dumbwaiter for a Muggle hotel. The light reflected off of something shiney inside, blinding him for a moment. Carefully, Harry reached in and felt around. His hand closed around a smooth, pointed stone. The moment his flesh touched it, a howl echoed off down through the corridor, making him jump. He jerked his hand back at once, sending whatever it was clattering around on the stone.

The screaming stopped, and Harry looked for whatever it was he had dropped. A moment later, he found it; it was a green stone shaped like a pyramid, and smoother than glass. The jade surface shined against the light as he picked it up to flip it over. On the bottom, the emblem of a coiled serpent had been carved in, the only imperfection overall. For whatever reason it had cried out, the stone was silent now. Without thinking, he pocketed it and crept over to the still-open compartment. Harry yanked out a book; thankfully, this one didn't make a sound. Scanning the cover, he saw gold letters emblazened on the surface, and smiled at what they spelled.

"'The Marauder's Manual,'" he read aloud.

Footsteps were approaching quickly. Harry packed up the book and roughly tapped against the picture again, then threw his Cloak back on as it closed.

"_Nox_!" he hissed insistantly, as a strange man with greying hair he didn't recognize came stumbling through and looked around wildly. Harry managed to creep by without making a sound, and broke into a run as he left the dusty corridor behind. He could hear the man sneezing in the background as he assended a flight of stairs that would lead him back to Gryffindor tower. Without his wand lit, it was much harder to see, yet Harry didn't stumble once the entire time. A few times, he passed by several Order members searching the hallways. If any of them heard his footfalls, however, they gave no notice.

A few times, he passed by a window where moonlight drifted through. There was enough light in these areas for him to scan the Map and get a better idea of his location. The Marauder's Map had gone back it it's old self now. Harry counted himself lucky there was no one on this end of the castle now. He hurried along now, being less careful of somebody hearing him. A few of the castle ghosts drifted by here and there, but even they paid him no mind. He had missed being under his Cloak, even more than he'd thought possible!

Voices echoed up ahead, making him pause. Harry hadn't seen anyone for several minutes now, and froze as he recognized them. Up ahead came Draco Malfoy, being led along a bit roughly by a disgrunted Snape. Suspicious, Harry leaned against the wall and listened carefully as they walked towards him.

"...foolish of you to be out tonight, Draco. What were you thinking?"

"None of your business!"

"Don't think for a second that your recent status has made you immune to my authority. I am still the Head of Slytherin House, and you are still a student here. Allowing things like elevation of power corrupt you is a sign of weakness."

"You would know," Draco replied snootily.

As they passed, Harry saw that Draco was carrying something in his hand. Peering curiously through the gloom, he saw a silver-handled dagger being clutched tightly in his fingers. The blade was dripping wet with blood, and several droplets splattered on the floor. Harry grimaced, wondering what was going on?

"I don't want you getting yourself into trouble needlessly, Draco." Snape had stopped, and was towering over him now. "Your mother has been writing to me almost daily now, demanding I keep a close watch on you."

"You think I don't know that," Draco replied. "This isn't any of her business. I've got my reasons for doing this, and you know what will happen if you don't stay out of it. I might still be a student here, but let's not forget who has authority over you!"

If Draco thought that was intimidate Snape, he was wrong. "Yes, the exact same person who has authority over you, young Draco. Or had you forgotten? I'm sure you realize what would occur if I reported your recent failures."

Draco swallowed. "Go ahead. I don't care! Soon, this will all be over with, anyway. And when it has, you can be sure my father will hear about all of this!"

Harry watched them continue on now, arguing every step of the way with mounting curiosity. On the one hand, he would love to know what Malfoy had been doing out of the Slytherin dungeons at this time of the night. The bloodied dagger in particular facinated him. Had Snape not been there, he might have risked another confrontation. The Potions Master stayed right behind Malfoy as they rounded the corner, though, leaving Harry with the decision that he should be getting back. It was already late, and he still had two mountains worth of homework to finish.

Thinking about homework made him remember Hermione, and he quickly dashed the rest of the way to the Fat Lady's portrait. After waking her up, he gave the password and climbed in, ignoring her grumbling. If Ron or Hermione were still awake, they might have some idea. His hopes were in vain, however. The common room was all but deserted now. Hermione had already gone up to bed, according to one sixth year girl, and Ron was snoring soundly in his bed when Harry entered the dorm. He would just have to bring it up at some point tomorrow. Homework would have to wait yet again, as he was much too tired now. The night's excursions had left him feeling exhausted. Before falling asleep, Harry put his Cloak away and tucked the book in with his school supplies.

He dreamt of the picture in the dusty corridor the whole night, watching it wave at him as the images changed to that of he, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Rayne.

_'Friends Forever?', _the writing in the stone read. _'Forever?'_


	10. Chapter 10 In the Eye of the Storm

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 10

_**In the Eye of the Storm**_

by Ri-kun

"This will be our last exam to determine who the Defense Against the Dark Arts assistant is," Professor Darkholme was saying as she moved through the classroom. "This written exam will not count against your grade, however, that doesn't mean I don't expect each and every one of you to do your best."

Hermione was gripping her quill with such force that it looked as though it might snap in two. Ron was eyeing her with disgusted smirk on his face, keeping his head low to the ground so she wouldn't see him. Harry was, as usual, sandwiched between the two of them. Neither of them had said much since arriving to class, though for once, it had little to do with their moods. Hermione had spent most of her time with her head in various text books. For once, she wasn't the only one, though. Several students seemed to be taking this exam very seriously. Every Ravenclaw, including Luna Lovegood, had spent the last few precious minutes going over their notes. Only a handful didn't seem to be taking it as serious.

"One last thing you all should know," Darkholme added, standing at the front now. "You will be allowed to use your Defense Against the Dark Arts textbooks during this exam."

Everyone, including Harry, raised up in shock. "The purpose of this exam isn't to determine how much you know mentally, but to test your skills on gathering and piecing together information. Many of the questions have more than one answer that will work, and none of them will be as straightforward as they seem. You will all need to spend several minutes thinking them over, so test will conclude at the end of the period. Please, take your time and do your absolute best."

Almost everyone was raking through their bags already, dumping out the contents in a desperate search for the DADA books. Harry watched as Hermione grinned triumphantly at him for a moment upon finding hers. Ron didn't bother picking any of his things back up, but simply shoved it all to the side.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione insisted.

Harry reluctantly searched through his bag, knowing already that his book wasn't there. He'd been in such a rush to get to class this morning, after spilling Pumpkin Juice all over himself. Dean and Seamus had snickered the whole time, then he'd found himself running late when he went back upstairs to change. It had been like that since his close call the night the Marauder's Map had acted all strange. His first attempt at crossbreeding in Herbology had been a complete failure, resulting in several students being sent to the Hospital Wing to have a number of Swelling Cactus quills taken out. And Neville, displaying the first signs of his old clumsiness in quite a while, had an accident while practicing non-verbal charms. His hair had grown nearly a foot long in spikes before Flitwick was able to shrink it back. Neville had apologized repeatedly afterwards, but in truth, it hadn't been all that bad. Harry had just been thinking earlier about how he wished his hair could be fixed back the way Rayne had done it. Without the Sleekeazy potion she'd used, he had no way to replicate the effect until now.

Everyone else had already started by now. Professor Darkholme was busy at her desk writing something down furiously. Without looking, Harry drew out a rather thick tomb that took up most of his space on the table. It was the Marauder's Manual.

Harry had forgotten about it by the next morning. His thoughts had been too preoccupied with trying to convince Ron and Hermione about what Malfoy might have been doing. The two of them seemed oddly disconcerned. Even Ron, who was generally the first to point the finger towards Snape, had been skeptical of Harry's theories. He might have protested more, but Hermione had been ankle-deep in an Arithmancy exam she had failed to finish. Ron had, of course, been trying to shovel too much food into his mouth at once, which left Harry alone with his thoughts.

Now, he spared a glance towards Malfoy, who was huddled down over his parchment next to the mysterious Slytherin from the train. A portion of his sleeve had been raised by accident over his left arm, and Harry leaned up, hoping for a glimpse. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but there was no sign of the Dark Mark. A layer of bandages covered the forearm, however. Harry frowned for a moment, then went back to his exam. Hermione was already on her fourth question, and biting her lower lip as she struggled to finish the lengthy answer she had begun. Ron was only on the second one, thankfully.

Harry pulled his test out and lay it across the now open book, and read through the first question, frowning.

'_The theory of a cursed artifact_,' it read. '_Is that the artifact must be bespelled by a significant magical power for the curse to remain effective. If, for example, a wizard were to place a Dark charm on a Muggle grandfather clock to hex anyone within listening distance when it strikes the hour, describe the type of spells that would need preparation to produce possible effects_.'

It sound vague enough to Harry. He decided to skip that one and go to the next.

It didn't get better. '_Hexes can be placed within a proximity of the desired target and timed to go off. What sort of charms can be added to these hexes to produce additional results_?'

Each question was worse than the last. The more he read, the bigger the knot in his stomach seemed to grow. It looked as though Harry wasn't going to become Professor Darkholme's new assistant after all. It would have been more work than he could have handled, anyway. Still, he had wondered for a few moments while Hermione studied what extra benefits Darkholme had meant.

Frustrated, Harry crumpled a part of his test parchment, revealing a top line of the Marauder's Manual underneath. Curious, Harry pulled his test away and read a few of the lines there. Most of the page was written in a very tidy scribble that reminded him of how Ginny usually wrote. Scanning the page, he flipped over to the next and was shocked to find something written that answered one of the questions on the test. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, Harry quickly copied what he'd found down.

There was nothing helpful for the next several questions, unfortunately. Lucky for Harry, it didn't look like anyone had gotten very far with Professor Darkholme's exam yet. Even Hermione seemed to have run into a difficult snag, and was scratching her bushy hair furiously. Thinking about how Hermione might handle this, Harry checked to see if the Manual had an index.

Before long, he had everything he needed. There wasn't enough time for him to scan every single page, but Harry still knew enough of what he'd found to answer all the questions now. The book had been divided up into different sections based on every subject taught at Hogwarts. The same tidy scribbling was on every page. It looked as though whichever Marauder had written it had covered everything he could ever hope to know. Harry wondered for a moment as he went down the test page, writing all the information he could find in, if it was Lupin's handwriting he was looking at. It seemed likely, though he couldn't remember what the former Defense teacher's scrawl looked like now.

Having the book excited Harry now. He couldn't believe it had taken him this long to go through it! Just knowing his father had been a part of this, had left him something else he could hold physically in his hands, made him swell up with pride. He wondered briefly if this was cheating, but then, Professor Darkholme was letting everyone use their Defense books. Of course, this wasn't the same thing, but surely the information could have been found in there, as well.

Harry finished ahead of everyone, including Hermione, who watched with an undisguised open mouth as he sauntered up to Professor Darkholme's desk with his parchment in hand. After turning it in, he immediately went back to his seat and flipped through the book some more. Hermione noticed the book he was reading, and peered over his shoulder.

"Harry!" she hissed, loudly. "That's cheating!"

"Shhh!" he whispered back at her, holding a finger over his lips.

Hermione kept on looking, which caused Ron to sneak a peek as well. "We aren't supposed to cover that until next year!" she went on. "And I've never even heard of that wand technique. Where did you find this?!"

"I'll tell you later," he promised, pointing up to the front where Darkholme sat. "Do you want us to get into trouble?"

The threat of punishment was enough to get Hermione to back off, though she glanced over to where Harry sat reading every so often still, scowling like the book distastfully. Harry had to admit to finding the situation funny. It was perhaps the first time in history that Hermione had met a book she didn't like. Ron, meanwhile, was watching Harry pour over it's secrets morosely, sneaking glances at it's pages for help whenever possible. When the bell finally rang, no one else had finish their tests yet. Harry stood up to leave, noting how Professor Darkholme gave a nod in his direction favorably, with Ron and Hermione quick on their feet after him.

"Fess up!" Ron demanded, once they were out of the classroom. "Where did you find it?"

"In a corridor down on the second floor," he said at once. "There was a portrait of my parents, and Remus and Sirius as well. The Map told me how to open it, and it was there inside this compartment in the wall. That was a couple of nights ago, the same night I caught Malfoy out of the Slytherin dungeon with Snape."

"Lucky you weren't caught, then," Ron said gravely. "How did you know to look there, though?"

"The Map told me. I don't know how, but it suddenly pointed towards that place." Even Hermione found this interesting now, and she ceased to glare at him furiously.

"The Marauder's Map?" she asked, intrigued. "Why would it do something like that now?"

Harry shrugged. "Like I said, the Map suddenly started pointing me towards that place. It was almost like it wanted me to go there."

"Maybe it was a message?" Ron offered. "Maybe... one of the Marauders left it there in the Map to appear when it felt like you were ready. Shame you didn't share it with us earlier. Mind you, Darkholme's test was brutal. I sure could've used help with some of the answers!"

"I didn't look inside it 'till today! Look, I'm sorry I didn't let you have a peek, but Darkholme might have seen one of us, and then we'd all have been in trouble."

"Harry, you cheated! Don't you realize what this means? Ron and I are prefects! We have to go to Darkholme and tell her what you did."

Harry froze in his tracks. A few third years behind them were so caught off-guard that they plowed right into him, then spent several seconds just standing there in awe. "Bugger off, all of you!" Ron snapped at them. "Or it's detention for the rest of the year!"

They all ran at the same time, knocking people out of the way as they scattered in fear. Ron was grinning as he turned back towards them. "I never get tired of doing that. No wonder Percy enjoyed this job so much!"

"It's not a job, Ronald. It's a responsibility!" Hermione was livid now. "You're as bad as Harry, sometimes. We're prefects now, and that means we have a duty to the school. If somebody else had cheated, like if it were Malfoy, would you want him getting away with it?"

Harry met her demanding stare with one of his own. "I think Malfoy's got bigger things on his mind these days than worrying about becoming an assistant for the Defense Against the Dark Arts. His teacher knows more about Dark Arts than Professor Darkholme ever could. Not that either of you believe me yet!"

"Stop trying to change the subject. If you'd spend less time on worrying about what Malfoy might be up to and more time studying, you wouldn't need to worry about failing all your classes."

"Who says I'm failing?"

Hermione snorted. "Come on, Harry. You could barely keep up before when I was there taking notes for you. It's not as though you stand a better chance now!"

He was angry now, and it must have shown on his face, because Hermione took a step back. "So that's it, is it? I'm stupid and have to cheat because you're not there to give me all the answers."

She blinked. "That's not what I..."

"You really would do it, wouldn't you?" he whispered furiously. "You'd turn me in to Darkholme for cheating."

Harry turned around to look at Ron, hoping for some support, but Ron was admiring his shoes at the moment. Harry didn't let up, and finally his old friend met his eyes with a wary expression. "She doesn't kinda have a point, mate. Nothing personal or nothing, but none of us have had as easy of a time in her class as you have lately."

"What? Is that the reason why you kept peeking over my shoulder every few minutes?"

Ron resumed staring at his feet. Harry looked back and forth between them. "I can't believe this," he yelled. "I can't believe that... You think all of this has been easy for me. You think I've got everything going so well for me that, when something hard comes along, I have to cheat just so everyone else will think I'm great? Is that it?"

"Harry, none of us said..."

"Sod off, both of you."

"Harry, mate!"

But Harry was already gone. He was so angry that he'd already climbed halfway back up the Gryffindor tower before remembering his Herbology was next. It was very close, but he made it just in time. Professor Sprout was already lining up people into new pairs. Harry threw his bag down furiously and watched with a small spark of curiosity mingled in with his pounding rage.

"Hey, Harry," Neville said, coming up next to him. "Are you alright? You look a little..."

"I'm fine, Neville," he said curtly. "What's going on?"

Neville looked away sheepishly. "Well, some of the other students decided to drop Herbology after what happened before. With the Swelling quills, I mean." Neville was obviously trying to spare his feelings, but Harry was too angry at the moment to care much, and only nodded.

"Oh, but everyone asked me to tell you it was no big deal. Justin was saying how he needed a free period just to get caught up with all of his other classes. The only ones who left were the ones who weren't real serious about it, and they wanted to make sure you knew that."

"Thanks, Neville."

"Hey, I'll ask Professor Sprout if it's alright that I pair up with you. If that's okay, I mean. You were asking me before to help you with your crossbreeding project, right?"

Harry had forgotten about that until now, and suddenly felt ashamed of himself. "Thank you, Neville. I'd really appreciate that. Sorry if I'm being a prat right now. Something happened earlier."

"Sure, I understand. Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry shivered with anger, thinking of Ron and Hermione again. "Not right now. But I appreciate you helping me."

Being partnered with Neville turned out better than Harry had hoped. In addition to showing Harry the different magical plants that work well with each other, Neville was also a great source of relief for his lousy mood. The two spent the whole period while Professor Sprout hovered close by. She seemed to be keeping an extra-close eye on him today, no doubt to ensure Harry didn't try and experiment with any more plant varieties. It made him a little uncomfortable, but once Sprout saw how Neville had the situation well in hand, she left the two of them alone in favor of giving advice to a Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff that had blended a Devil Snare and Blubotubber together nicely.

"Any ideas yet, Harry?" Neville asked after explaining each plant in excruciating detail.

Harry had been able to follow so far, but was still at a loss for what to do. This was really beyond his area of expertise, even with Neville's advice. Listening to him chatter on had helped him feel better, though he was still angry with Hermione and Ron over the book. Thinking about it caused Harry to frown thoughtfully. More than likely, Neville wouldn't see using the Marauder's Manual as cheating. He couldn't remember if there'd been anything within it's pages surrounding Herbology, but it couldn't hurt to look.

Fumbling through his bag, Harry yanked out the large tomb again as Neville watched curiously over his shoulder.

"What's that, Harry?"

Harry grinned. "It's a book I found. I think it belonged to my parents."

"Cool! What's inside it?"

"I think it might have something in here about what I could use for my Herbology project," Harry told him, flipping through the index. "You won't tell Professor Sprout that I'm using it, will you?" Harry wanted to make sure Neville didn't harbor the same feelings as his other friends. As it happened, he had nothing to worry about.

"What for?" Neville shrugged. "Everyone in here uses different textbooks for reference material. I doubt Professor Sprout would care less, honestly."

"Here it is!" Harry exclaimed, pointing. "Take a look here."

Harry moved over so Neville could read, too. "Looks like it's full of stuff for old potion recipies," Neville commented. "But there's some stuff over here on this page about how to combine things together, too. Wow, Harry! Do you think maybe I could copy some of this down for later? I'd love to see how some of this might work with my Mimbulus."

"Sure thing." Neville was taking this whole business with the Manual a lot better. Harry supposed Ron and Hermione were really upset because he hadn't let either of them see it. Of course, Hermione hadn't looked as though she wanted to. If anything, she seemed more angry that the book even existed.

Harry and Neville spent the last few minutes of Herbology working together, copying page after page from the Manual, and working to get Harry started on his own project. By the time the bell rang, he had crafted together with Neville's aid a crude but effective set of seeds. The three tiny buds had been combined from a Swelling Cactus and several Monolotus Bulbs. It would take time to grow, but at least he had something worth showing now.

Neville walked with Harry back up to the castle for lunchtime. Both their stomachs were complaining loudly of the lack of food. The air around them was growing even colder, adding to the blanket of moisture covering the school grounds. After the humid atmosphere of the greenhouse, Harry found himself shivering from cold. By the time they reached the Great Hall, he was shaking all over and very grateful that someone had thought to light the fires. Of course, each of them were forced to stand still for several minutes in the entrance as Filch once again worked them over with his Dark Detector. He seemed to grow more and more despondant with each student that passed through cleanly. Once again, Filch took longer to check Harry for any hidden spells or dangerous magical items, and frowned angrily as he walked towards the smell of food.

Neither Ron nor Hermione had made it down yet, so Harry opted to sit with Neville for the time being. The Gryffindor table was practically sagging from the weight of food lying on top of it. After several mouthfuls, Harry could feel his strength returning, and the ill memories of Filch and his bitter feelings earlier faded away. By the time Ginny had joined them, he was laughing whole-heartily with everyone else. Ginny in particular was in good spirits. Harry felt a little surprised at how glad he was to see her.

"Luna was telling me earlier how you've taken Professor Darkholme's last exam," Ginny asked suddenly. "To pick her assistant, I mean. Does that mean we'll be doing the D.A. soon?"

Harry nodded over his bite of onion pie. "I guess so. Though, I think it all depends on who she picks for her assistant. She might put them in charge of it." Harry had been wondering about this for a while. The D.A. was never his idea to begin with, yet he wasn't so sure he liked the idea of someone else taking it over.

"She can't put anyone else in charge," Neville stated. "We'll protest!"

"Yeah!" several other Gryffindors added.

Harry shook his head. "Okay, guys. How about we talk about something else?" All anyone had asked him about for weeks now was when the D.A. would start back up. It was becoming annoying. Ginny immediately brought up Quidditch, and the upcoming match against Slytherin. Harry listened as several people as Colin and his brother both went on about their new status of being on the Gryffindor Quidditch team with Harry, and their chances during the match. Their last few practices had gone very well, with the Creevey brothers only messing up once. A renegade Bludger had gone straight for Ginny's head, and each of them had dive-bombed at the same time to knock it away from her. It had been a close call, but Ginny was able to roll out of it's way, leaving just enough space for Colin and Dennis to slam head-long into each other.

In spite of this, they were shaping up to be one of the finest teams he'd ever played with. Only Ron seemed to be showing some of his earlier nerves, missing a few easy shots. Thinking of Ron made Harry look over to his left. At some point, Hermione had entered the Great Hall with him, and they now talked with each other in hushed tones. Harry watched them for a moment, and thought he overhead them say his name a few times. When Hermione looked his way, though, he pretended to have heard Ginny say something particularly interesting.

*****

The day of the match against Slytherin, something unusual happened. The sun was shining brightly when Harry awoke that morning. It was so unusual that, for the first couple of minutes, he wasn't sure what had happened to the dorm. It was far too well-lit. After crawling over towards the window, he was hit directly in the face by the morning sun. The brightness of it made him blink several times, but after that, he looked out towards the Quidditch pitch with a pleased expression.

The sunshine seemed to help brighten everyone's disposition. All of Hogwarts was brimming with excitement. Several times throughout the day, people stopped Harry in the hallway to wish him luck, and ask for an autograph. He declined on the latter part, and started keeping the Marauder's Map with him. With it, he was able to dodge around a number of large groups of students lingering wherever he normally traveled. It didn't escape his notice that many of these groups consisted largely of girls. Ginny, Neville, and Luna rose to the challenge in helping Harry evade the horde of persistant admirers by keeping a close watch between classes. It wasn't easy, particularly when Ginny came forward just before lunchtime with the news that the same group of Gryffindor girls that'd been saving him his very own compartment were conspiring to slip him a love potion. He'd spent the rest of the day avoiding them whenever possible, especially anything they might try and give him.

When the last bell rang, Harry raced out the door to retrieve his trusted Firebolt from his trunk. A set of butterflies had settled into his stomach over the last few hours, but more than that, he felt elated. His heart pounded in his chest with anticipation. For once, there was something good to look forward to! Everyone else seemed to feel the exact same way.

It wasn't hard to guess why. The news recently had not been good, and several more parents had shown up to take their children home from Hogwarts. This was met with a wave of unease from everyone, including the faculty. The two Hufflepuff students that had been pulled out at the start of the year were found murdered earlier in the week, and it looked as though their parents were the culprits. The Imperius Curse had apparently been used, and Filch was now inspecting anyone who showed up at Hogwarts to withdraw a student for any reason. It would have been bad enough at that, but the day after the event was reported, a article appeared in the Daily Prophet. The headline had caught Harry's eye immediately.

**FAILURE AT HOGWARTS!**

_The Wizengamot was called into emergency session today at the Ministry of Magic to address what many are calling a failure of conscience at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Yesterday, four parents were arrested in what many are calling the most shocking crime yet since the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Meladine and Vincent Thrump, along with Elanore and Richard Crossbolt, were taken to Azkaban prison following a thorough examination at St. Mungo's. The Imperius Curse had apparently been placed on each of them, with the intent that they withdraw both their only children from Hogwarts. Both children left under the assumption that they would be returning home. Upon safe distance from the school, however, the parents Apparated to an undisclosed location and each performed the Killing Curse, which resulted in the deaths of both._

_Many are questioning how something so horrible could escape the attention of Albus Dumbledore, whom many regard as the greatest headmaster that Hogwarts has ever seen. As it happens, Albus Dumbledore had been conspiciously absent at the time. Further inquiries reveal that Dumbledore has not been seen at Hogwarts for many weeks at a time. His growing absences leave witches and wizards wondering whether he is capable of providing sufficent protection of our nation's youth._

_Dumbledore certainly has much to answer for. His promises of new security and protection to all parents who expressed concern at sending their children away during these dark times have not been met. If this is just the beginning, what new horrors might await just around the corner._

_Rita Skeeter, Co-Editor-in-Chief_

It made Harry's blood boil, but there was nothing that could be done about it right now. Rita Skeeter had apparently netted herself a fat promotion since the interview he'd given her, but she was right about one thing, much as he might hate to admit it. Dumbledore was showing his face less and less these days. Harry had stopped searching for him up at the faculty table long ago. The absence was felt by everyone as he made his way down to the pitch from the dressing room behind his team. Even with this hanging in the air, the roar of the crowd was deafening. For once, the boos from some of the Slytherins were drown out.

Harry mounted his broom and kicked off to the air. The Slytherin team was right behind them. Each of them sneered out towards Harry's team with looks of pure contempt, but there was something wrong. He quickly scanned their faces as Madame Hooch brought the trunk with the Quidditch balls, and realized with a jolt that Malfoy wasn't there.

Madame Hooch blew her whistle and released the balls, making Harry concentrate on the game. Ducking a Bludger that roared near his head, he took off up towards the sky and looped around, searching the ground for anything gold.

"Sorry about that, Harry!" Dennis apologized, knocking a Bludger away. "Didn't see that one earlier!"

"Focus, Dennis," he told him.

Dennis nodded at once and went back to the game, pairing up with his brother to keep the Bludgers away from Ginny and Katie. Euan Abercrombie was having a better time of keeping away from the Slytherins. His small frame and thin broomstick slipped through the larger players with ease, allowing him to score several points past the Slytherin Keeper with ease.

"Another ten points to Gryffindor," the announcer called. "That makes the score Gryffindor forty, Slytherin zero."

The boos from Slytherin reaches Harry's ears from high up, and he frowned slightly before cutting a loop towards something that turned out to be nothing but a young witch's necklace. The voice of the announcer sounded very familiar.

"Another ten points for Gryffindor," the male voice called out again. "Abercrombie takes the Quaffle and makes another play. Oh, but Crabbe snatches it away and makes a play for the Gryffindor hoops. Crabbe seems to have had trouble with handling his broom today. Hope he makes it far enough to... No! Gryffindor Chaser Ginny Weasley makes a grab for it and succeeds. Now it's Gryffindor in position again..."

Harry risked swooping down over the announcer's box. McGonagal was sitting in the spot that Dumbledore usually occupied. Next to her was a seventh year dressed in Slytherin colors. Harry recognized him as the same boy from the train again. He remembered now his name, Morgan Bloodmoon, from Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Slythern Seeker Hocum makes a dive for the ground!" Bloodmoon cried out.

Harry whirled around and saw to his shock that Bloodmoon was right. Hocum was in a precarius dive, aiming for something glittering near the ground. Whipping about, Harry plunged his Firebolt towards the same spot and roared off. It was going to be close, and Harry saw too late that he wouldn't make it in time. Changing course slightly, he angled his broom straight for Hocum's just as the Slytherin Seeker reached up with both hands. Each of their brooms rattled with the force of Harry ramming his into Hocum's. The Firebolt took most of the shock, but it was enough. Hocum nearly fell sideways off his broomstick, and had to reattach himself with both hands. When he looked up, the Snitch was long gone.

Madame Hooch blew her whistle and glared harshly towards Harry, but the damage was done. The Slytherin team was awarded a free shot at the goal, which they took and just barely got in. Ron was looking quite steamed at himself. It occured to Harry that they hadn't really spoken to one another since the arguement weeks ago. The only time they'd really seen one another was during Quidditch practice.

"A bold move by the Gryffindor Seeker, nonetheless!" Bloodmoon was calling out amidst the jeers of several Slytherins. "Slytherin is now twenty to fifty!"

Harry went back to looking for the Snitch. That had been a close call, and Hocum had nearly gotten the Snitch. They weren't nearly far enough along in points for Harry to mess up like that. He needed to keep his mind in the game. As his scanned the field for any sign of the Snitch, the sunlight overhead faded out. Confused, Harry glanced up and saw a dark cloud rolling overhead. A wild wind from the south kicked up, nearly lifting him up completely off his Firebolt.

Lightning struck across the sky, briefly lighting up the Quidditch pitch for a second. In that instant, Harry spotted where the Snitch was hiding. Rain pettled the back of his head as he shot foward towards the ground again. This time, however, Hocum was off to the side and swooped down in front of him. Jerking his broom back up, Harry missed striking Hocum by inches, and when he looked, the Snitch was gone again.

"Turnabout is fair play, I suppose," Bloodmoon remarked, wryly. "Hocum is successful in blocking the Gryffindor Seeker, so the score remains fifty to forty, with Gryffindor in the lead!"

Harry was furious, but that was nothing compared to his teammates. The Gryffindor team was now driven by this second time the Snitch had escaped his grasp, and it fueled their efforts. Ron began punching the Quaffle away each time it came anywhere near one of the three hoops, to the point that Madame Hooch threatened to call foul on him for straying too far from his position. Colin and Dennis were whacking away Bludgers towards the Slytherin team at every possible chance, sending a Chaser flying off his broom and Hocum nearly crashing right into the faculty box. It was turning into a very nasty game. Harry flew even higher in the hopes that he might spot the Snitch from up here. This game needed to end soon before someone got hurt!

Or worse!

Unfortunately, the storm was getting worse. It was now too dark to see the Quidditch pitch below. A flash of lighning blazed past, nearly throwing him. The wind was becoming unbearable, too. Resignedly, Harry began to decend his broom towards what he hoped was the pitch again. The only chance of locating the Snitch now would be if it flew down his throat. As he did, though, an idea struck him. Yanking out his wand, he removed his glasses and tapped them twice.

"_**Impervio**_!" he hissed through chattering teeth.

It was the same spell Hermione had shown him years ago. Now, at least, he could see well enough to know where the pitch was. The Firebolt's speed was actually a hazard to him with the wind blowing as hard as it was. Harry decended slowly, keeping his eyes peeled just in case.

Something red whipped past him near his head. Harry turned sharply in response, moving purely by instinct, and looped back around. There was nothing behind him, but a dark shape out the corner of his eye was escaping through a cloud bank. Another flash of red came past him, this time only missing because of a gust of wind catching his broom. The FIrebolt seemed to have a mind of it's own for a moment, and Harry fought to right it around.

This time, they weren't trying to hide. Three cloaked figures on broomsticks hovered just ahead of him. Harry couldn't see their faces, but as the wind kicked up around him, he thought he saw a lock of blonde hair under the cloak of the smallest one in the middle. There wasn't time to think on it, though, because each one of them raised a wand at once. Harry turned his broom to avoid the blasts of red sparks headed for him. They were coming after him now, one closing in fast. This one shot off something other than a Stunning spell, and the whole sky lit up for a moment while red flames danced towards him. Harry ducked out of the way, but the fire turned in response and followed him. The rain wasn't putting it out, and it was getting closer.

Up above, the big one that'd cast it was holding his wand out in concentration. Harry watched as the smallest rushed towards him, and surprisingly knocked the arm away. The flames behind him died out just as they'd reached the tail end of his broomstick. The two seemed to be arguing now, and Harry thought he heard the smaller one shouting.

"You moron! We need him alive..."

"_**Petrificus Totalis**_!"

Harry's wand was shaking so badly from the cold, it was a miracle the spell hit it's target. The larger one went rigid at once, and would have certainly fallen from the broom had his legs not been wrapped around it. The body swung back and forth like a pendelum for a moment, and the rocking motion caused his hood to fall back. Harry stared on his shock for a second, then looked back towards the pitch below.

"Impossible..." he whispered.

The smaller one was joined by the other, then. Both of them raised their wands towards Harry, who swallowed back his fear and prepared to defend himself. A flash of lightnight struck through the clouds again, and as it did, something odd happened. Harry blinked as twin bolts of blue magic flickered past him, and sent both hooded attackers flying off their brooms. For a split second, he thought it might have been a trick of the lightning, but then logic dawned on him.

Harry turned and searched the skies, but there was no sign of anyone else up here. Turning his broom, he flew as fast as he could for the ground. The match was still going on, and it looked as though Slytherin was finally catching up. Harry searched the pitch for a familiar face, and spotted it as Colin Creevey sent a Bludger towards him. Crabbe whirled out of the way clumsily, then dropped the Quaffle he was carrying right into Katie Bell's waiting hands.

Harry frowned, and through the rain, saw something fluttering just a few feet from his nose. Stunned, Harry gripped his Firebolt and took off after the Snitch, weaving in and out of the spaces between the players. Hocum tried to follow, but his bulky frame made it impossible. What followed might have been the most spectacular mid-air collision of broomsticks in Hogwarts history! Hocum wound up entangled between two very irate Slytherin beaters, who looked as though they were ready to mistake his head for a misshapen Bludger. The three bodies flew haphazardly through the air for a moment, before crashing head-long into the announcer's box.

Harry, meanwhile, grinned broadly as he felt his frigid hands close around the Snitch. Madame Hooch caught sight of him waving from down on the ground, and quickly blew her whistle.

"Gryffindor wins!" she declared.

"Harry Potter has done it again!" Bloodmoon called out, loudly. "Harry Potter succeeds once again in catching the Snitch. Gryffindor wins with an astounding two hundred and thirty to seventy!"


	11. Chapter 11 The Oracle of Four Seasons

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 11

_**The Oracle of Four Seasons**_

by Ri-kun

"Are you sure it was Malfoy, Harry?"

Harry huddled deeper into his robes as the crisp, early winter wind blew freshly across their faces. The temperature had dropped yet again, waking everyone in Gryffindor tower up on Halloween morning to a case of the severe shivers. Everyone had been looking forward to going down to Hogsmeade, especially with all the talk of it being cancelled. Each time Harry had turned around, someone had a new story about how they'd overheard one of the professor's talking. Only when McGonagal came up and made the official announcement that the trip was on did people relax.

All except for Harry, of course. "I didn't see Malfoy's face," he admitted. "It looked like Malfoy, and whoever it was had bandages on his arm, but I'm sure it had to be him."

Harry hesitated before continuing. "Crabbe was with him."

Ginny and Neville both turned at the same time. "Crabbe?"

"Crabbe was in the match, Harry," Ginny told him, carefully. "We all saw him there. The whole school watched him play. Very badly, I might add! He kept falling off his broom the whole time, and once nearly charged straight into me. That happened just before you caught the Snitch..."

"I know!" he told her. "Look, I'll understand if neither of you believe me." Ron and Hermione certainly didn't, he thought silently.

"None of us are saying we don't believe you," Neville told him at once. "If you say Crabbe was up in the clouds with you, then that's what happened. It's just..."

"Really weird," Ginny finished for him. "But, that's not new when it comes to Malfoy. He may have found some way to make a copy of him. I'm sure there are Dark magic spells that can do something like that."

"Daddy says it happens in the Ministry all the time."

Luna, who had been silent up until now, looked over at Harry blankly and went on. "They're always making copies of wizards down in the Department of Mysteries. It's a part of their forced slave labor trade. The copies are grown from cabbages and turnip leaves, then stewed inside a covered cauldron for ten weeks before being put to work."

"I wouldn't put it past them," Neville muttered.

"It's possible," Ginny mused. Both Neville and she sounded as though they were taking Luna's theory seriously. Of course, given Harry's recent encounters with the Minister of Magic, it didn't seem quite as far-fetched as it once might have.

"What I think," Ginny went off after a moment. "Malfoy may have gotten his hands on a bit of Polyjuice Potion from Snape's private stores. He wouldn't even have to steal it; Snape would let Malfoy have as much as he wanted, and not asked questions."

Harry nodded. "That I'd believe before anything else."

They were getting close to Hogsmeade now. The town didn't seem nearly as cheerful as it usually looked. Almost at once, Harry saw that a number of shops were closed down and boarded up, abandoned. Very few people were lingering around on the streets, and the students brave enough to risk the trip were heading off for shelter immediately. Ginny seemed to be looking for something, meanwhile. Harry opened his mouth to ask her, but saw as she waved towards two figures standing in front of one such emptied shop.

"Fred! George!" she called out.

The flame-haired twins looked up towards them and called out at once, to Harry in particular. Cheered at the sight of them, Harry wandered over to where they stood alongside Ginny. Fred winked at Ginny once before giving her a quick hug, followed by George.

"Lovely to see you, Ginny," Fred grinned. "Hope Harry's been doing his job of keeping the other boys at bay."

"Glad we caught you here, Harry," George added. "We were hoping to run into our chief investor."

"What's up?" he wondered, smiling wryly.

"We need to talk a little business." Fred gestured to the closed shop behind them. "You recognize this place?"

Harry looked at it for a moment, and the two shops sandwiched beside it. "This used to be Zonko's, right?"

"Right you are, Harry! Old man Zonko decided to pack things up and split for parts unknown about a month or two ago, just before school started. George and I were thinking of opening up a second shop here in Hogsmeade. It would give students closer access during the school year."

"Business _is_ going good, then," he noted, cocking an eyebrow.

"Smashingly. We wanted your input, since you helped make all of this possible."

"Fred and I took the liberty of handling all the legalities for you," George explained. "Seems we could easily buy the place from Zonko dirt-cheap, but the difficult part would be tracking him down. Seems he's vanished from sight, and no one will tell us where he's gone off to. Luckily, dear old Dad knows somebody in the Ministry records department. He put us in touch, and we've got proof of several documents that state a non-residential property can be claimed if it is abandoned for a period of twelve months."

"The place will need renovations by then, of course. But we're figuring come the first Hogsmeade visit of next year, you'll be witnessing the grand opening of the second Weasley's Wizard Wheezes shop."

"It's brilliant!" Harry chuckled. He could already picture it in his head so clearly.

"So, we have your go-ahead, then?" Fred asked, pointedly.

"Of course."

"Good discussing it with you, Harry." George made a swooping gesture rather like he was an escort for the govenor. "Now, we've got lots of work to do, and you have people waiting for you out in the cold."

"We'll be seeing you during the holiday," Fred added. "Mum's insisted we all get together this year. You'll be along, of course."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he promised, heading back towards Neville and Luna, who were standing idly in front of one of the few open shops. Ginny followed, keeping step with him while pulling her coat up even further.

"Looks like Fred and George are moving up," he commented. "Your Mum must be thrilled."

"So long as they keep making money," Ginny agreed.

"Who keeps making money?" Luna asked, unassumingly.

"Ginny's older brothers," he explained. "The twins. They're thinking of moving a joke shop here in Hogsmeade over where Zonko's used to be."

"I remember them," Luna nodded. "They played on Gryffindor's Quidditch team, as Beaters."

"Right."

"They were very good. Most people liked them. I think they played better than the Creevey brothers."

"Yeah, they did." Harry tried not to laugh too much. Luna was one again dispensing random facts for no obvious reason. Harry was growing accustomed to it, though. Neither Neville nor Ginny seemed bothered by it, so why should he?

"Could we go somewhere warm?" Ginny asked suddenly. "My hands are freezing. I almost wish we hadn't come out today."

"Here," Harry offered, holding his own hands out. "My hands are warm."

"We could go to the Three Broomsticks?" Neville suggested.

"Can't," Ginny said through chattering teeth. The wind was starting to get worse. "Madame Rosmerta disappeared two weeks ago. I overheard Professor McGonagal saying to Flitwick the other day. No one's reported it in the Daily Prophet, but they're thinking she could be dead. The Three Broomsticks has been closed down until they locate her."

"Honeydukes?"

"I never go into Honeydukes," Luna stated, looking off down the street absentmindedly. "Breathing in too much sugary air makes you a magnet for Wurkspats."

"The Shrieking Shack?" Neville tried next.

Nobody seemed to like that idea much, either. The only other place Harry could think of was the tea shop, where he'd spent a distasterous first (and only) date with Cho Chang the previous year. Harry wanted to avoid that place at all costs, so he kept silent as a fresh north wind came barreling down the street.

"Let's head up the street a little bit," he suggested, finally. "If there's nothing else open, we'll just head back."

It was turning out to be a miserable first Hogsmeade visit. Harry couldn't remember it being this cold during the winter months when snow blanketed everything in sight. There was a bitter chill to the wind; it cut into Harry's exposed cheeks like a sharp knife. To his surprise, Ginny hadn't let go of his hands the whole time. Harry didn't pull away from her, however, as her hands were still frigid. He'd smartly kept his tucked away inside the folds of his pockets where his wand rested. The odds of something bad happening to him while he was still so close to the castle seemed small, yet Harry wasn't about to take the risk. There had been far too many close calls this past year, especially over this last summer.

Thinking about the summer made Harry flinch, and the memories sank in deeper than the pain of the wind hitting him in the face. Much to his own regret, he pulled away from Ginny then and stuffed his hands back inside his robe. He had not heard one word of Rayne except for the letter she'd sent. He had left the window open each night, despite how much colder it was getting. These days, he woke up to find someone having closed it at some point during the night. It left him feeling panicked, yet it would have been simple for any owl to find him. If something were wrong, Rayne would have send word by now, asking for his help.

Ideally, anyway.

Assuming, of course, she still thought of him. Since the dream in the Prefect's bathroom, Harry had devoted as much time as he could spare thinking about Rayne, wondering where she could be. It had been maddening enough when Sirius was alive, worrying about whether the Ministry had caught him. At least, back then, Voldemort hadn't returned yet. Rayne was in far more trouble than he, if what Yuzuho had said was true.

He managed to calm himself each time by remembering that Rayne was far more capable than the average witch or wizard. She had spent her whole life traveling the world, learning new spells and secrets to ensure her survival. If anyone could stay one step ahead of the magical community, it was her. This helped calm his fears somewhat, but it didn't stop Harry from thinking about her.

Typically, he found himself lost in thought, and didn't realize that everyone else had stopped several paces back. Harry looked around, surprised to find himself alone, with Ginny calling him from behind. Embarassed, Harry jogged back to where the others now stood, keeping his head low the whole time as yet another fresh gust of icy wind hit him in the back.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I was..."

"Let's go in there!" Ginny said quickly, pointing off to the side.

Harry followed the direction of her finger, and saw a large tree sitting off on the side of the road just a few feet away from the edge of Hogsmeade's main street. At first, he couldn't figure out what Ginny meant. It was only a large oak tree. Granted, it had survived remarkably well against the elements, specifically the severe cold that had come through. Neville and Luna were already walking towards it, though, followed quickly by Ginny. Harry was just about to ask what they were doing, but as he drew closer, he could see it for himself.

The tree had a door at the base of it's trunk, big enough for a full grown man and then some to step through. It looked very old, like something from a different time, and the crack at the bottom revealed light shining on the other side. Neville reached it first, and opened the door far enough to let Luna in first. Twin statues sat on either side near the tangled mess of roots. Harry didn't recognize them as he stepped inside, but they rather looked to him like a strange sort of dog. Only, the tale looked like it belonged on a raccoon.

The warmth coming from the inside made him forget about everything else. The room was very well-lit, and much bigger than the exterior of the tree suggested. Even with all his experience in the magical world so far, Harry was still left stunned. For once, everyone else fell right along in line with him, though perhaps more because of what lay farther in.

The room was quartered up into four areas. A narrow pathway seperated them, crisscrossing down the middle and leading around the walls in a circle. Chairs and tables covered each section, along with what looked like a few plush sofas. There were people sitting around, drinking great mugs of steaming broth and laughing. All around them, servers dressed in elaborate clothing went from one table to the next, either to bring more drinks or check to see if anyone required something else. One thing that registered with Harry was that the servers were all girls, and that they looked very beautiful. He felt a lurch in his stomach, and worried that they might be veela.

Several patrons eyed them with each step they took, as though bespelled. Neville, while taking note of this, didn't seem especially beset. Harry decided it was safe to come in, and quit polishing his glasses. To their right was the area that held the least number of people in it. Harry opened his mouth to suggest they sit over there, but then the reason why it was unoccupied became apparent. Abruptly, it was snowing!

Snow was falling on the inside of the building. Harry looked up at the ceiling to make sure it wasn't an illusion like in the Great Hall. The snow certainly looked real, though the rafters gave no clue as to how it was coming down. A couple, obviously taken by surprise at the onset of weather, jumped to their feet and headed off to another part of the bar. It was indeed some sort of a pub. Harry had figured out that much, at least. In the area up ahead to the left, it had started raining. The tables, however, all held umbrellas on them in the center, which automatically opened up to provide cover from the light rain.

Standing in the center of the room, he could feel the heat coming from the region next to that. The air was hot and dry, almost the way an ideal summer day would seem. Something rustled off to the side in the last section. It rattled, making Harry jump slightly, but it turned out to be dried leaves. All four areas had pillars in them, and he noticed now how something was growing out of them all. In one place, there were bright flowers of all shapes and sizes. In the second, it was vines and pine needles. The area with the leaves on the floor had more hanging just barely. Every few minutes, some of them would fall to the floor, creating a kaleidoscope of reds and golds and browns. The snow had picked up in the last part, going from a few flurries to a full-blown storm.

"It's amazing!" Ginny cried out.

Luna looked overjoyed, as well. She kept turning in the same spot, looking around at the room with wide-eyed wonder. "Let's go sit down," Harry suggested, pointing in front of him. "Preferably somewhere warm."

No one had any objections. Luna did stop for a moment as they passed one of the pillars, putting her hand up against it for a moment. Whatever she was doing seemed to please her, because Harry saw a smile of pure contentment spread over her face for a moment just as she let go. The pine needles there seemed to rattle as she walked past, but otherwise, nothing odd occured.

One of the girls Harry recognized from serving drinks earlier approached the moment they sat down. "Welcome to the Four Seasons!" she said in a fake, cheery voice. "Can I get you anything?"

She was looking directly at Harry while asking this. "Uhhh, a butterbeer please?"

"Sure thing," she nodded, not looking away. "Anything else?"

Ginny seemed to find this especially funny. He could see she was pretending to look over a small, folded pamplet containing a list of drinks to conceal her snickering. A number of people were staring openly at them now. Harry suddenly wished they hadn't come here. Only the thought of braving the icy cold wind outside kept him in his seat.

"No, thank you," he stated, hoping she would get the message.

"Okay, fine. If you need anything, though, just let me know. Anyone else?"

Everyone but Luna ordered the same thing; she wanted something called an Icy Creme Frostmint, which supposedly cleared the mind of any errant thoughts belonging to someone else. Even after the girl left, people didn't stop staring. There weren't just Hogwarts students in here, though at least half the room consisted of them. Word had apparently traveled about this place already.

"You'd think they would find somewhere else to look," he grumbled.

"They can't help looking, Harry," Ginny replied, giving his hand a squeeze. "You've gotten a lot more facinating. People are bound to want to know what the deal is."

"They're probably interested in your new haircut," Luna spoke up, staring openly where his scar was. "You've never shown off your scar to anyone before. It's a nice change from the last time."

"I'm not..." he began, then made himself stop. "Sorry, I just never thought of it as showing off before. The haircut wasn't really my idea, but I liked it that way, and it just seemed like the sort of thing to do."

"Sorry about hitting you with that spell the other day," Neville added, chargrined.

"I like it this way," Harry insisted. "And if it shows off my scar more, then so be it. I just wish people didn't stare so much."

"It's because girls want to stare at you." Luna said this without looking up at him. She had found a spot on the table and was staring at it keenly. "You're beautiful."

Harry swallowed, but a hand gripped his shoulder before he could think of something to say.

"I've been waiting for you, young man."

Harry turned around to see an elder woman. For a moment, it was as though his eyes couldn't focus correctly. It took several seconds of blinking before things came back into view, and even then, it was as though he was only vaguely registering the person in front of him. Whoever it was gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze once before letting go. Only then was he able to see her properly.

Her hair was lying about her shoulders like a cape, drifting all the way down her back in waves of dirty gray. She was very short; Harry guessed she would only come up to maybe his chin, and her face had an odd sort of look to it. He realized she reminded him of one of the statues he'd seen outside framing the doors of the pub. The round face was watching him patiently as he took her in, with wide eyes that gave her a naturally bemused expression. She pursed her lips for a moment, making them look like some kind of beak.

"Who... who are you?" he asked without thinking.

"They call me the Oracle," she answered at once in a plain voice. "This is my new pub; the Four Seasons. I was wondering when you would be gracing us all with your presence, young Harry Potter."

Harry blinked. "Would you mind if I sit down?" she asked.

Luna sat straight up and scooted her seat closer to Neville, making room for her. The Oracle watched her do this with a blank expression for a moment, before removing a chair from another table. The Ravenclaw student who'd been reaching for it looked up to glare angrily, but the moment their eyes met, she backed away as though shocked by something. The strange woman calling herself the Oracle drew out a small box from somewhere inside her robes and lay it on the table, then. Taking a seat, she looked on as Luna observed it carefully.

"They're quite powerful, aren't they?" she noted, speaking only to Luna then. "You could learn to master them yourself, if you really wanted to."

Luna didn't respond to the strange statement, but didn't take her eyes away as the Oracle opened the box up and removed it's contents. Harry saw they were a deck of cards, which the Oracle began shuffling through expertly.

"This is your first time coming here," she said, looking across at all of them. "Standard service for a first-time customer. Anything after this, you have to pay for it. Who wants to go first?"

They all looked at one another. "Those are tarot cards, right?" Nevill bravely asked.

The Oracle nodded, still shuffling. "You're a sharp one." It didn't sound like she meant it as an insult. "You can be the first, then."

Neville looked as though he didn't like the idea much, but stayed in his seat as the Oracle spread the cards out in an arc on the table. From the deck, she drew first three cards, laying them in the table's center two across from each other and one above, like a pyramid. The top card, when she flipped it over, looked like some kind of king. A lump formed in Harry's throat, then, refusing his attempts to swallow it down. His mouth felt dry all of a sudden.

"Destiny has been kind to you," the Oracle said, staring at the card as though she saw something they didn't. "The weight around your shoulders is considerably lighter, but you will still be needed in the coming battle. Are you prepared to accept this?"

Neville looked at the card uncertainly. "I... don't know."

The Oracle just nodded, as if that were a perfectly good answer, and flipped the second card. "Your past is full of dark clouds and uncertainty. You were being groomed for a role that was never yours to assume. But you shouldn't let that concern you. Someday, she will see you for who you truly are, one way or the other."

The last card. "You should know, there is a task for you to perform suited only for someone with your abilities. Never forget that."

Next, she looked over towards Luna, who was waiting patiently. The Oracle reached out with one hand, expectantly. Luna placed her own hand in it after a moment's hesitation, and allowed it to be held over the cards still spread out.

"Choose," was all the Oracle said.

Luna hesitated, then reached down for one laying at the far end of the deck near Harry. He didn't see which one Luna had drawn, but the Oracle nodded approvingly at her choice and motioned for her to do it again. When Luna drew a second card, she frowned slightly, as though surprised what she saw there. The last card Luna drew, one from the middle, made the Oracle laugh, gasping like a dog.

"That was good," she wheezed, giving Luna a gentle pat on the arm. "Very good, girl. You'll make a fine one."

Luna smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes, and lay the cards back down. The Oracle scooped them all up in her hands then and began shuffling once more. She kept her eyes focused on Ginny the whole time, who was waiting almost expectantly. Harry, meanwhile, wasn't sure what to make of this. At first, he had assumed the Oracle was just another phoney like Trelawney, full of spook and atmosphere, using fortune-telling as a gimick to attract customers. No one else in the pub seemed to be paying them any attention now, though. It was like they didn't notice any of them were sitting at the table.

The Oracle, meanwhile, was already dealing out cards in front of Ginny. She placed five there as opposed to three, all in the shape of a diamond, with the fifth one in the center. This was the one she turned over first, giving Ginny a hard look as she did so.

"What you want requires a terrible risk," she said softly, gazing deeply into Ginny's eyes. "There are no ways out afterward, and you may not survive the encounter regardless. You have already taken the steps to approach this challenge, but it would be wise for you to consider whether this is what you really, truly want."

By the look on her face, Ginny was as confused as Harry. The Oracle didn't wait for her to ask what she meant, though, and continued flipping over cards. First, the two on the sides, which had scenes of night and day on them. Harry glanced first at the sun, then the moon, and waited for the Oracle to explain. When she remained silent, he looked up at Neville and Luna for some sign that either one of them knew what was happening. The air around them felt charged, thick with unseen tension. The noise from the pub had drifted off to the point that it felt like they were the only people left.

"I suppose you're more capable than I first gave you credit, girl. But then, you're used to people underestimating you by now. Do whatever you think is best with your life. No matter what some others think, this is all that matters."

Then, she turned over the top card, and handed it to Ginny. "You have a power that hasn't been awakened yet. Learn how to use it, because it might just save your life."

The Oracle raised up the bottom card with it, and Harry saw it had the word 'Love' printed on at the bottom. "That's how you will know," the Oracle told her. "This will be the sign for you when the time is right."

Harry was hanging by the edge of his seat without really knowing why. No one said a word as the Oracle stood up out of her chair, taking the cards with her in one swoop of her hand.

"There are few second chances in life," she told each of them. "What you do with it is entirely up to you. But, if it will help, I can at least offer you something a little more to your ages. And don't worry! This one will be only half-price."


	12. Chapter 12 Defense and Deception

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 12

_**Defense and Deception**_

by Ri-kun

Harry stood front and center amid a crowd. Behind him, their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was waiting patiently. Harry had thought she would want to make some sort of speech, or at least take a role of who all was here. All she did when he turned to look back at her was gesture for him to carry on.

It was the first official meeting of the Defense Associate. Last year, all of this had been completely undercover, thanks to Umbridge's reign of terror. Having an instructor who was not only qualified, but had insisted on Harry continuing with it was still taking some getting used to Along with being her new assistant!

No one else had seemed shocked when Harry's name was called the following morning. It had taken him a moment to realize she was asking him to come up to the front of the room. The whole time, Hermione and Ron had kept their eyes squarely on him. They had taken to sitting farther back after the argument, and he'd wondered for a moment if the two had actually followed through with their threat. The whole time, he had sweat bullets, considering what might happen if he was suspended in front of the whole class for cheating. Malfoy had leered maliciously the whole time, until Professor Darkholme made her announcement.

"Congradulations, Harry," she had told him, smiling. "I can't think of anyone else who's more qualified than you. You'll do us all proud."

Several people had clapped, Luna and Neville in particularly. The only three who remained silent the whole time were Malfoy, Ron, and Hermione, the latter two watching with with neutral expressions. He and Ron hadn't spoken much during Quidditch practice. Harry had thought perhaps it was time to bury the hatchet now, since it was clear Professor Darkholme had no intentions of punishing him. Ron, however, had remained decidedly cold the whole time. He took instructions when Harry gave them with grudging admission, but refused to so much as utter a hello. It seemed both he and Hermione still maintained the belief that Harry had gained his new position of authority by cheating, no matter what anyone else believed.

When class was over, Luna and Neville were the first ones to congradulate him. Followed by, of course, them both wanting to know how soon Professor Darkholme would allow the D.A. to reform. Luckily, she had been standing not too far away, and answered for him.

"We'll try for this weekend," she said to all three of them. "I don't think too many students have activities, then. If it's inconvenient, we can always reschedule. Would either of you like to inform everyone else of the time and date?"

Before the afternoon had ended, at least twenty more people had come up to Harry, wanting to know if they could join. Unfortunately, most of them were turned away. Professor Darkholme had pulled him aside after Luna and Neville had left. Dumbledore had given her permission to use the D.A. as a study group for advanced DADA, but only under several strict conditions, one of them being that students under fifth year were not allowed to join. Harry wondered when this had happened, since the headmaster was still absent a lot during the day. Professor McGonagal was looking more severe with each passing day. There had been more reports in the Daily Prophet about Death Eater attacks. The Ministry was being decidely mute on the details, stirring up quite a panic inside the castle walls.

Each morning at breakfast, it was now commonplace for the Great Hall to be overrun with owls. Parents were writing their children on a constant basis these days, demanding return letters with reassurances that everything was indeed well and good. Some of the parents were still demanding that students come home, but only a handful agreed. After the incident with the two parents that had been Imperiused, no one at Hogwarts was taking any chances. McGonagal was now personally imspecting anyone who showed up to claim a Hogwarts student as their own. New inspector devices had been handed over to Filch, who took every opportunity to shove them in inappropriate places whenever someone passed through those doors. Harry rather thought he was enjoying the new authority handed to him. He had almost adopted the same manical glee as last year while under Umbridge's reign.

Harry, meanwhile, had done his best to keep himself preoccupied. Now that he was expected to run the Defense Association as well as captain the Gryffindor Quidditch team, his workload was overwhelming. Thankfully, the Marauder's Manual was turning out to be an invaluable asset. Each evening after supper, Harry retreated to his dorm room to retrieve the book from the bottom of his truck. Luna had shown him a particularly clever charm that kept anyone from thieving it. All Harry had to do was place his hand over the surface of the truck to get it to open. No one else would be able to so much as budge the lid, otherwise.

Harry was finding the information in it facinating. The more he read, the closer it felt like his parents were to him. Reading the words gave Harry the feeling that both his mother and father were standing right over him, guiding his hands to the right answers. Before he had found it, his school work had been steadily declining. However, thanks to the wealth of information at his fingertips now, he was finding the mounting piles of essays and quizzes each teacher handed out a breeze. What more, he was finding it all just a little bit fun! Harry had finally begun to understand some of Hermione's interest in learning.

Now, if only she could see it that way.

That night, when word of Harry's newest achievement had reached every corner of the school, several Gryffindors had come up to him to offer their support. A number of them, students under the age limit Dumbledore had enforced, had asked rather slyly if he might find some way to slip them in. It was funny to think they all assumed he had some great sway of influence now, but Harry was forced to turn them away. Some of them had looked resentful, but he had earnestly meant it. Harry had no idea whatsoever how he could go about getting them in. Unlike their fifth year, the Defense Association was a strickly school-sponsored event. One example of this was them no longer using the Room of Requirement.

It had come as a shock to himself. Professor Darkholme had announced in class the next day that they would be conducting D.A. meetings in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. It had come as such as surprise to Harry that he had looked on in shock right beside the others.

"The Room of Requirement has long since been a place in Hogwarts only used during extreme cases of emergency," she informed them. "During your fifth year, this was made as an exception, for obvious reasons. Now, however, I feel we can make do with holding meetings in a normal school classroom. Should something arise that forces us to reconsider this, I will speak with the headmaster."

He would have liked to ask her how she knew of the Room of Requirement, also known as the Come and Go Room by the house-elves, but there wasn't a chance to ask. When Neville himself brought the subject up, Harry dismissed it as Dumbledore having probably told her. That weekend, they all marched down to the corridor where the professor was standing patiently outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts room. Darkholme gave Harry a wink as he passed by, which made him gulp. Outside the castle, a storm beat furiously against the walls, as though demanding to be let in. It had done nothing but storm and freeze ever since the Halloween feast. The weather had gotten even worse now. More people were saying that the next Hogsmeade visit had been called off, which troubled Harry greatly.

"Right," Harry finally said, when it became clear that Professor Darkholme had no intention of taking the lead. "Most of you were in the D.A. last year, so I guess we'll get right to it. For anyone new, my name is Harry Potter, in case you had forgotten. I think we'll start off by going over everything we covered last year."

Someone raised a hand near the back. "Yes?" Harry pointed.

"Grendel Morrowsmith," the girl said, as though announcing herself. " Fifth year Ravenclaw. Someone said that you could cast a fully corporeal Patronus, and taught most of the D.A. how to do it last year. Will you be teaching the rest of us that, as well?"

Harry shrugged. "I suppose so. Don't be too surprised if you can't do it at first, though. It took me several months to learn, and I only managed because of a few... problems that year. That's way on up there."

"Can you show us?" the girl named Grendel asked, before he could move on. "Just once?"

"I'd like to see it!" another new D.A. addition Harry didn't recognize.

Everyone looked on at Harry anxiously. They had all seen his Patronus before, but it was still obviously a big deal for people. He had received extra points on his O.W.L. for sending the silvery stag around the Great Hall in a circle, even. That had been before this past summer, though. Harry still wasn't quite sure what had triggered it, but the last time he tried summoning the stag, a massive dog appeared in it's place. Things had been to hectic when he finally arrived at the Burrow to ask what could have gone wrong. He'd avoided using it ever since then, too, for fear that something could have gone wrong.

"Go ahead, Harry," Professor Darkholme encouraged from behind. "Feel free to show off a little."

Gulping, Harry raised his wand and concentrated. Keeping his eyes closed, he tried for a moment to visualize the image of the stag in his mind. It appeared clearly in his head without any obstructions, yet seeing didn't diminish his nervousness.

_**"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"**_

The stag burst out from his wand and soared majestically over everyone's heads. Members of the D.A. gasped and pointed in excitement. With them distracted, Harry breathed a sigh of relief and watched contently as it made a full circle around the room once, before stopping in front of him. The stag considered him for a moment, then bowed it's antlered head low and vanished.

Professor Darkholme was just one of the people clapping after it disappeared. "Oh, bravo," she declared. "I should say, Mr. Potter. You're just full of surprises."

"I agree."

Harry turned, along with everyone else. There, in the doorway, stood Morgan Bloodmoon, languishing against the frame with his eyes locked solely on Harry. "I was wondering if it was too late to join up. It took me a while to find this room, and I would've been here much sooner, but there aren't many Slytherins who knew where the meeting place was."

Everyone was looking at Morgan as though he were speaking in some strange, foreign tongue. "Should... I just go, then?"

"Umm, no." Harry shook his head to make sure he wasn't dreaming, and looked over at Professor Darkholme. The professor stared right back him, expectantly, waiting silently for him to answer.

"Come on in."

The heat in the room became constricting. Practically every pair of eyes followed Morgan as he crossed the room, picking a seat slightly off to the side at the front, farther away from the others. Most of the other D.A. members were too stunned to do more than look on in amazement, but Harry could see the glowering behind many of their eyes. Quickly, he rapped his wand against the corner of Professor Darkholme's desk to direct everyone's attention back to himself. From the looks of some of them, particularly Ron in the far back, Harry was in just as much hot water at the moment.

"As I was saying, I think we should first go over what we covered last year. This will give everyone who wasn't in the D.A. before a chance to get caught up, and get a feel for the kinds of spells we will cover."

Professor Darkholme nodded her approval, and Harry began dividing people up into pairs. A number of people kept darting their eyes over to where Morgan stood calmly by himself, and deliberately kept their distance. It was clear no one wanted to be partnered up with him, but Harry wasn't about to play favorites. Granted, he had never felt any love for Slytherin house, mainly due to it being where Malfoy was. The idea of a Slytherin joining the D.A., a group devoted to fighting back against the Dark Arts, seemed laughable. Several times, he glanced back to make sure Morgan was still standing there, looking as comfortable as anywhere else. He wondered if this weren't some sort of prank the other Slytherins had put him up to. That seemed like the most likely scenario to Harry, but he wasn't going to make a move just yet. For one thing, he was fairly sure Professor Darkholme wouldn't approve much, and so far, the two of them had been on good terms.

Finally, he had grouped everyone together save for one. Morgan was giving Harry a knowing look as he approached him with his wand out, pointed at the ground. "I'll team up with you for now," he told him. "If that's alright."

"Doesn't look like I have much of a choice," Bloodmoon noted, glancing back at everyone else. "They don't like me very much, do they?"

Harry was somehow reminded of Luna just a little bit, who was currently joined with Neville at the moment in back. "We'll start with with Expelliarmus, and work our way up from there. Everyone, get into position!"

At first, it looked as though only a handful could remember how to correctly use the disarming spell. A couple of books were sent flying off the shelves, but that was the extend of the damage overall. After a few mishapes, things proceeded more smoothly. Harry recalled during his second year how difficult it was to remember things after a summer of freedom, and resolved to be patient with everyone. It turned out, this wasn't required as much as he'd feared. By the third try, nearly everyone had disarmed their opponents at least once. Only Ron seemed to be having trouble, and it looked to Harry like he was deliberately going out of his way to miss. This did wonders for Lavender, who kept cheering each time the wand of the Ravenclaw she was partnered up with went flying.

Bloodmoon, on the other hand, was not to be underestimated. When Harry's attention was diverted both times, Bloodmoon disarmed him effortlessly, making him frustrated. After the second time, he resolved to keep his focus on his opponent for the moment. This, to his shock, didn't serve him as well as he expected. Bloodmoon ducked out of the way of his first disarm, and fired one directly at his head. Harry had to spin out of the way to avoid it, moving on instinct alone. Forgetting that this was only practice, he crouched down low and took aim for Bloodmoon's chest. Even then, his shot missed somehow, leaving him open for attack. He managed to fire off a second shot before Bloodmoon could recover, and even then, it almost didn't connect in time.

"That was... very good," Harry breathed, getting up. People were watching the two of them, now. Some looked oddly impressed, while the others acted as though they were ready to charge Bloodmoon on Harry's behalf. Harry motioned for them to step down, then shook Bloodmoon's hand.

"I studied dueling some a few years back," he replied, halfheartedly. "An uncle of mine was a famous duelist back in his youthful hayday, before the Ministry placed a ban on it. It was something he thought I should learn. I just reacted then without thinking."

Bloodmoon was watched the rest of the room as if waiting for them to attack. Quickly, Harry stood between them and nodded his approval. "I was impressed," he admitted. "You almost had me there."

"So was I," Professor Darkholme. "I'd love to see how the two of you duel against one another sometime."

Harry hadn't been expecting that. "I really don't think I'm that good at it," Bloodmoon spoke, nervously. "It was never something I took to, according to my uncle, at least."

"You have reflexes that are quite remarkable," Darkholme insisted. "It's a shame that dueling is no longer an active sport in the wizarding world these days. Some of the sport duels I saw, where only non-lethal spells were used, were a sight to behold. I'd love to see what your uncle taught you."

By Bloodmoon's face, he saw that there was no getting out of it. "If you insist," he relented.

Darkholme looked undeniably pleased. "Fantastic," she said. "But, not today. Harry, I believe the class is yours."

For the next hour, Harry maintained a close watch on everyone, giving advice when he thought it was needed, and praising several others who were catching up very quickly. People overall seemed relieved to be doing this again. Harry even had to admit that he was enjoying himself. He had never fancied himself a teacher before. His only career goal in life had been to be an Auror, a thought that was ironically planted in his head by a disguised Death Eater. Other than Quidditch, it had been the one thing he seemed best suited for. Now, he found himself reconsidering as Neville once again managed to shield himself from several attacks at once.

"I think that's enough," he said, ordering everyone's wands down. "We'll pick this up again next week, if that's okay?"

Professor Darkholme nodded her consent, and watched as people began reluctantly headed out the door. No one seemed especially in a hurry to go. Bloodmoon was one of the last to leave, giving Harry a wave as he left. Professor Darkholme watched that with an amused expression he couldn't understand, then wandered over to where Harry stood.

"Was there something you needed, Harry?"

Harry stood there for a moment, not answering. There had, in fact, been a number of things bothering him, but this one was weighing especially hard on his mind at the moment. "I was just wondering," he said slowly. "If you'd seen Professor Dumbledore in the last few days."

"I'm afraid I haven't," she replied, earnestly. "What there something you needed to ask him? If it's something important, I'll see if I can't do it myself. Would that be alright?"

"If you know enough about potions, sure."

Her eyes widened slightly at his bitter tone. "I'm afraid potions are just a little bit out of my area of expertise. Does this have anything to do with Professor Snape? I thought you weren't in his class this year."

"I'm not," he explained. "Professor Dumbledore offered to teach me in potions this year so I could become an Auror, but he hasn't been around much. I was going to ask him about it, but he hasn't been in the Great Hall that much."

"I really don't see how that's such a big deal," she replied. "No offense meant. What I mean is, isn't there someone else you could ask? Dumbledore seems fairly busy these days, not that I don't blame you for being a little upset."

"Actually," Harry admitted. "I think I'm getting used to it."

Professor Darkholme seemed to consider something for a moment. Going over to her desk, she reached in for a piece of parchment and quill. "Strickly speaking," she said. "I'm not supposed to do this. Books in the Restricted Section are traditionally only checked out by students for specific things. Given your current situation, I think Dumbledore will just have to get over it."

She handed the letter over to Harry promptly. "These are a list of books for you to look through. It might not be much, and you'll probably need someone from Professor Snape's class to help go over several portions of it, but it's the best I can do right now. When Dumbledore does come back again, I suggest you have a word with him about it."

Harry glanced through the list, and nodded. "I... thank you, Professor."

She smiled again at him. "Think nothing of it, Harry. This won't be the first time the Headmaster and I have clashed over a difference of opinion."

Harry was reminded of the day back before school began, when Dumbledore had taken him to see Darkholme for the first time. It had seemed like there was a lot of tension between them in the room that day. Even now, Harry still wasn't quite sure why he had been needed there. Darkholme, meanwhile, was now staring off at something, lost in thought. Seeing the look on her face, he suddenly had the desire to leave.

After bidding her goodbye, which Professor Darkholme barely took notice of, Harry darted out into the castle corridors and headed up towards Gryffindor tower. It was getting later now, and the storm outside roared against the walls, making them shake. Several of the portraits were grabbing hold of whatever could hold them steady as thunder shook the very foundations. The ominous feeling he'd had all evening was growing worse, though he wasn't entirely sure what it meant, still. When Harry reached the Fat Lady's portrait, she was looking quite harried. Her clothing appeared wrinkled, as if she'd jump taken a nasty fall, and each hair stood totally out of place.

"Well?!" she demanded, catching him staring.

"Oh, sorry!" Harry apologized. "_French Vanilla_."

The common room was still crowded. Ginny and Neville had beat him up here, and were once again surrounded by a number of Gryffindor students. This had been going on ever since the Halloween feast, when they'd first divulged the tale of their adventure of meeting the Oracle at the betwitching Four Seasons pub. Lavender and Parvati were once again lurking close by, keen to hear all about it, though they pretended badly to appear otherwise. Harry had a good idea of why, too. The two had entertained the idea for some time now that they had great potential as Seers, thanks largely to the incompetence of Professor Trelawney. Harry thought perhaps they had decided to ask for a second opinion of their potential. Both had looked extremely put out that night in the Great Hall, having missed the chance to accompany them. They now had abandoned all pretenses of disinterest, and were leaning forward desperately hoping to catch some missed tidbit of information.

Lavender spotted Harry as he attempted to slip past him, and seized his arm. "Harry," she said, quickly. "You were with Neville and Ginny at the Four Seasons, right?"

Several people nearby, including Ron and Hermione, looked up at the mention of his name. "Yes," he said, wearily. "But I already told you. The Oracle never read my fortune for me."

"Why not?" she insisted, her grip tightening. "Did you do something to make her angry?"

That stung, somewhat. "No, I didn't," he insisted, jerking his arm away. "I don't know why she didn't read my fortune. To be honest with you, I'm really not sure if I want her to, anyway."

"How come?" Lavender demanded. "Do you think it has something to do with..."

She stopped, thankfully, before completing that sentence. Harry used the distraction to slip away up the stairs to his dorm room. It was still deserted for now, which was just what Harry needed. Rather than go back downstairs, he finished up his lingering homework on his bed, using several of the pillows for support against the firm headboard. Thanks to the aid provided by the Marauder's Manual, he finished everything in record time, and felt quite pleased with the end result. With his newfound free time, he flipped through the pages aimlessly, looking at random facts and interesting bits on wicked-sounding curses and spells.

Harry was deep in thought over a chapter concerning wandless magic, when the doors swung open. Thinking it might be Ron, who still glared irately if he so much as caught a glimpse of the book, Harry covered it up with his bedsheet. This turned out to be unnecessary, as it was only Neville.

"Hello, Harry," Neville waved, cheerfully. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine, Neville," he told him, pulling the sheet back. Neville had long-since made it clear of him having no problems whatsoever with Harry's facinating book. "I was just looking up some thinks."

"For the D.A.?"

Neville sounded keen to know, so Harry humored him. "Probably," he said, turning to a different page. "I found this chapter on how to do non-verbal spells. Professor McGonagal was saying the other day how we would be starting that soon. I thought I'd study up a bit on it first, and see if this had any tips."

"I gave up Transfiguration," Neville admitted, sheepishly. "Professor McGonagal said I didn't have a high enough grade to take the N.E.W.T. level, but she was real nice about it. She helped me work out the rest of my schedule this year, and even offered to write to Gran when I told her how much of a fit she was sure to throw."

"You're grandmother wanted you in Transfiguration?"

"And Potions," Neville added. "They were two of my old Dad's best subjects. She still thinks I should be following in his footsteps, ready to carry on in the family's name and all that. I finally wrote to her myself the other day and told her to back off."

Harry was impressed. Neville had never shown so much as an ounce of bravery where his grandmother was concerned. "Are you going to show us how to do non-verbal spells?" Neville asked then, changing the subject.

Harry took the cue. "If I can ever learn how myself."

They were both interrupted when the door opened again. This time, it was Ginny who stepped through sheepishly. When she saw only Harry and Neville around, she calmly walked through and sat down on the opposite bed.

"I just told Lavender she should mind her own business," Ginny said to Harry's face. "She's been pestering me for days about what that Oracle woman said about me. Honestly, I'm beginning to wish none of us had gone in there!"

"I still don't think she really saw anything."

"Neither do I," Harry agreed. "But, why do you think she didn't try and read my future?"

"She said that she'd been waiting for you, Harry," Neville reminded them both. "Remember, when she first came up to the table. Maybe she decided not to take the chance and trick you out of anything. My Gran thinks Divination is a load of wash, but something about that place..."

"It was all kind of spooky," Ginny agreed. "I'm not saying that it couldn't have all been just an act, but something about her still makes me wonder."

"I thought about going back," Neville admitted, after a moment's hesitation. "Just to see if she would read me again. I wanted to know more."

Harry didn't respond, but privately had thought of the exact same thing. This was the reason for his being so disappointed at the announcement that the next Hogsmeade trip had been cancelled. There was little chance of him getting out now, since Hogwarts was more heavily guarded than ever.

Ron came stumbling in a few minutes later, looking surprised at the three of them sitting together. "What are you doing in here, Ginny?" he demanded. "Get off my bed. I need it to sleep on!"

"Like you go to bed this early," she snubbed, standing up. "See you later, guys. Goodnight, Harry. Goodnight, Neville."

Ron was deliberately avoiding looking at Harry as he went about turning his sheets back. Their eyes met briefly just for a moment as he was getting ready to pull his curtains to. Harry considered for a moment saying something. It had been weeks since they had a proper conversation. Every time Harry had tried talking to him at Quidditch, Ron just looked at him as if waiting for orders. Their playing was suffering for it, and Ron had begun to slip back into some of his clumsiness from last year. He wasn't the only one to blame for it, however. Harry himself had been feeling the weight of Ron's stonewalling, to the point that he'd missed several chances to nab the Snitch early on. Their next Quidditch match loomed ahead like something to be feared. It would not bode well if he failed so miserably after the last game.

Harry had still come no closer to convincing anyone of what he had seen. Professor McGonagal had listened to his report of the attack up in the clouds over the Quidditch mound, but as the entire school had seen Crabbe playing down below, there was very little to be done about it. It had infuriated him, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Harry had been keeping his guard up, though. His wand never stayed out of his reach, even when he slept. Even now, it lay tucked safely under his pillow, to be drawn out at a moment's notice.

Harry was still convinced that Malfoy had something to do with this. He didn't bring up his suspicions to McGonagal, not after the way she'd handled his story. Without real proof, there was no way she would take action. It was up to Harry to catch Malfoy in the act. He was going to have to think of a way to keep tabs on him at all times. Unfortunately, nothing had come to him at the moment. He had tried in the beginning to follow Malfoy's movements with the Marauder's Map, but this was much easier said than done. He still had his classes to attend each day, and after a close call with Flitwick when he'd risked whipping it out for a quick check, Harry decided not to try anymore. He couldn't have the Map confiscated, which left only the times between classes. None of this yielded any results, though. Malfoy never went anywhere out of the ordinary, or disappeared off the Map for any given time. This just made Harry more frustrated. His unease over the apparent dissolusion of his friendship with Ron and Hermione, the upcoming Quidditch match, Dumbledore's continued absenses, and the attacks on his life were all driving him mad.

And there had still been no word from Rayne.

His mind was still racing after what seemed like hours. The room had long since been dark, with only a dim candle lit across the room. The sound of the door opening made Harry tense up for a second, and he instinctively reached for his wand, but it turned out to be only Seamus and Dean. The two chatted quietly for a moment as they crossed the room. Harry couldn't make out what they were saying, but each spoke in very low tones. It sounded as though the both of them were bored out of their minds. Whatever it was didn't seem remotely interesting to either of them, and Harry found himself drifting off not long after.

He wasn't sure how long he slept, but a crack of thunder from outside shook him awake. Harry tried to raise up, but found himself trapped against the bed. Neither arms would move an inch; to his shock, Harry realized that he'd been petrified!

Someone was outside his bed, whispering. Lightning struck, and he could just make out two shadows standing side-by-side to his left. Harry tried to move, to shout out loud for help, but even his mouth wasn't working. Then, the curtains came crashing down.

Someone gave out a yell, and the room was suddenly filled with what sounded like screaming. Harry tried to listen through the thick fabrics, but it was all coming out as jumbled. He could make out Neville's voice, and he seemed to be trying to reason with whoever else was there. Ron suddenly started screaming.

Desperately, Harry threw his weight to the right just as the sound of spells being fired off filled his ears. One of the sheets near his foot caught fire, which gave him enough motivation to move. Unfortunately, none of this changed the fact that he was still petrified. Harry wound up rolling off the bed onto his back on the floor, trapped like a turtle on the road. Someone fell not far from him, and Harry saw it was Dean.

The room grew quiet, finally. Neville came over to where he lay struggling and quickly performed the counter-curse. "Are you okay, Harry?"

He had just been saved by Neville Longbottom. Harry knew he should be grateful, but at the moment, all he felt was a burning shame. Quickly, he reached up for his wand and kept his face low.

"What happened?" he demanded, sounding harsh even to his own ears.

"Sorry. Thanks, Neville. Where did Ron go?"

"He left to get help. I think Seamus and Dean were trying to kidnap you, Harry!"

That took a second to absorb. "What?"

"I woke up and they were standing over your bed, talking to one another. At first, I thought maybe it was just some sort of prank they were pulling. I know they've been after you lately about what Ron said over the summer. When I asked them about it, though, they started throwing curses at me."

"Dean and Seamus, though?" Harry felt like he was missing something obvious.

"I think they're okay," Neville assured him. "Harry, what's going on?"

It took the better part of the whole night to get everything more or less sorted out. McGonagal looked on in shock as they (meaning mostly Ron and Neville) explained to her what happened. When the Aurors showed up soon after, both Seamus and Dean's bodies were taken up to the Hospital Wing. Ginny had cried the whole time, and Harry remembered then that she had Dean had been dating. Seeing her upset made him feel even worse than before. No one in all of Gryffindor slept that night. People kept turning towards him, some of them wearing faces like this was all his fault. Harry couldn't really blame them, since a part of him felt the same way.

Finally, McGonagal came in to announce that both Dean and Seamus were being escorted to St. Mungo's for intensive treatment. Madame Pomfrey had been unable to revive either of them, and it didn't appear to be because of anything that Ron or Neville had done. This was out of her area of expertise, but it looked as though Dean and Seamus had suffered from an improperly cast Imperius Curse.

None of this made anyone feel better. Gryffindor tower fell into a panic afterwards, with people glanced suspiciously towards one another as if expecting an attack. Professor McGonagal assured everyone that things were fine, that Professor Dumbledore had been informed and was on his way back right now. Harry was happy to hear this, but perhaps the best thing to come out of what happened was that Ron and Hermione were talking to him. The two of them, along with Neville and Ginny, sat around him for support as they watched the sun rise. Morning classes would be starting soon, but Harry doubted seriously that he would pay much attention. At one point, Ginny leaned her head against his shoulder, falling off to sleep. Ron and Hermione sat close to one another on the couch, dozing off.

Slowly, Harry put his arm around Ginny, letting her fall against him. He felt guilty for doing so, but after the events of this past night, he needed the comfort of someone close. As the common room lay silent, with it's inhabitants succumbing to the inescapable lure of sleep, a lone raven slipped through one of the open windows. It's feathers shook off the droplets of rain as it landed near Harry, extending a claw. A letter addressed to him was tied to it. Recognizing the print, he snatched it off without thinking, causing the bird to caw angrily.

The sound woke everyone up, but the bird was gone in an instant. Harry's eyes remained glued to the letter in his hands.

It was from Rayne.


	13. Chapter 13 Return to the Four Seasons

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 13

_**Return to the Four Seasons**_

by Ri-kun

None of the Gryffindors got much sleep last night. The few that did manage only dozed off towards the beginning of dawn, after a long night down in the common room. Everyone had waited up there, either worried about Seamus and Dean, or just too afraid of what could happen if they went back to their own dorms. There was a definite air of mistrust and fear amongst the Gryffindors now. Harry was beginning to understand some of what Sirius had tried explaining to him back in his fourth year. The day hadn't even started yet, and already small tiffs had broken out. Hermione had been forced to take points away from two second years, who nearly tore into each other after a fight, and Ron was having his hands full with keeping several fifth year girls in Ginny's dorm room together.

It was perhaps the one good thing that had come out of all of this. Ron and Hermione were no longer avoiding Harry at every turn. The two had been some of the first to make sure he was well and truly alright after the battle. Both of them had sat next to him for a while, before their duties as prefects took them away. Harry didn't mind that, considering how close the Gryffindor tower was to decending into chaos. With each passing minute, everyone grew more and more tense.

He supposed this was exactly what it was like for people on the outside. Seamus and Dean hadn't been Death Eaters. Neither of them would have followed Voldemort's orders willingly, yet they'd just tried to kidnap him. Harry still had trouble thinking about it. It still seemed unreal, like a story from a Rita Skeeter article! When his wasn't careful, his mind took him back to his early days at Hogwarts, back to his first year when Dean had drawn the lion on the banner for his first Quidditch match. Thinking about those times made his stomach queasy.

McGonagal finally came to tell everyone that Dean and Seamus had both made it to St. Mungo's. Everyone had about a million questions, which she silenced with a wave of her hand.

"The Healers haven't even begun looking either of them over yet," she said sternly. "So far, Mr. Finnigan and Mr. Thomas seem stable enough, but they won't know more until after the tests have been run."

Then she turned to look squarely at Harry. "Mr. Potter, I'll need to speak with you for a moment."

Everyone's eyes were zeroed in on him, but Harry pretended not to noticed and got up. Hermione gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as he passed her. He thought he saw Ron scowl at that for a second, but when Harry passed him, Ron just patted him calmly on the back. McGonagal was waiting for him out in the hall just past the Fat Lady's portrait, who was lucky enough to have fallen back to sleep.

McGonagal remained tensely silent as she lead him through the quiet hallways down towards her office. Harry followed her without worrying too much. Normally, he always felt nervous when confronted with the head of Gryffindor House. After the events of last night, however, he was still too stunned to think that much on it.

"I trust you are well, Mr. Potter?" she asked, after he'd take a seat across from her desk. "Strickly speaking, I mean."

"Yes, Professor," he told her. "Professor..."

"Once we receive word on the conditions of Mr. Thomas and Mr. Finnigan, Gryffindor tower will be the first ones to know."

That hadn't been what Harry was going to say. "I think..." he began, then took a deep breath. "I think Malfoy might have put the Imperius Curse on Dean and Seamus."

McGonagal raised up sharply. "That's not an accusation to be taken lightly, Mr. Potter. I trust you realize that. What makes you think Mr. Malfoy is the guilty party?"

Harry wondered for a moment how much he should reveal. McGonagal sat across from him, eyeing him impatiently. Sighing, he took a deep breath and prepared for the inevitable.

"Malfoy attacked me on the train," Harry explained. "On the way to Hogwarts, I mean. I'd hidden in his compartment because I thought the Ministry was there to try and take me away. We got into a row after everyone else had left, and... Well, I dueled with him. Also, during the Quidditch match, I was attacked by three wizards on broomsticks up in the clouds just before I caught the Snitch."

McGonagal stared at him. "Are you saying that this hasn't been the first attempt on your life since you've arrived at Hogwarts?"

She sounded shocked, but Harry shifted and went on. "One of them was Crabbe. I know everyone saw him on his broom during the match, but the hood fell off one of them, and I know what I saw. I think one of the other two was Malfoy, but I didn't get a good look at his face."

"And you managed to defeat a three-on-one assault while on your broomstick during a rainstorm?"

"I..." Harry stopped himself. "I ran away. I was diving back down to the ground to get away from them when I caught the Snitch."

"I see." McGonagal looked at Harry severely. "And why didn't you inform anyone of this?"

That was a question Harry had been hoping to avoid. McGonagal was waiting, however, and growing more impatient by the second. "I didn't really think it mattered."

"Mattered?!" McGonagal exclaimed, disbelievingly. "What on earth makes you think that?"

"It didn't last year," he said, quietly. "Not when the Ministry was taking over everything. No one seemed to care, then."

That made Professor McGonagal stop. "Whatever Malfoy is up to, I think Snape may be helping him. I saw the two of them together one night in one of the corridors. I was coming back from the Prefect's bathroom," he added. "The two of them were talking quietly, something about what Malfoy was trying to do. Malfoy had some kind of knife with him."

Harry didn't really think McGonagal would believe him, but it felt better to let her know. "Dumbledore will need to be told about all of this," McGonagal said, finally, talking more to herself than him. "I shall inform him of everything you just told me."

That caught Harry by surprise. "In the meanwhile," she went on, ignoring his expression. "I will have to insist that you remain in Gryffindor tower at all times after dark. And make sure someone accompanies you no matter where you are. Security will have to be tightened, I'm afraid."

"Has anyone... Does anyone know when he'll be coming back?"

"Tomorrow morning," she replied without looking up. "I expect he'll be quite busy over the next several days. He spends so much time in his office these days, it'll be a relief for everyone to see him downstairs in the Great Hall for once."

Harry was halfway through getting up, when McGonagal's words struck him. "What?" he wondered. "I thought Professor Dumbledore had been gone for weeks?"

"Certainly not, Mr. Potter!" McGonagal looked at him as though he were mad. "Do you honestly believe the headmaster would leave Hogwarts unattended during a crisis like this? The headmaster has simply been too busy with certain matters. I'm afraid you've been taking too many rumors into account. It's bad enough that the Daily Prophet has stirred up so much trouble by printing such insidious lies. My office has been pelted with letters from parents for weeks, demanding reassurances that Hogwarts is still in capable hands."

McGonagal paused in her rant to catch her breath. "Let me be the first to assure you that Dumbledore only ventures away from Hogwarts when it is absolutely necessary."

"So, he's been here all along?"

"Baring very few exceptions," she nodded. "You are dismissed, Mr. Potter."

Harry stopped at the door on his way out. "Does anyone know where Professor Dumbledore has been going?"

The look in her eyes was sharp enough to split Harry in two. "That is a matter for Order members only, Mr. Potter."

Harry took that as his cue to leave. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville were waiting for him when he returned to the tower, and he wasted no time in informing them of what he'd just learned. None of them could understand it, either, and they discussed it at length on their way to breakfast.

"Well, that explains where Dumbledore has been all this time, doesn't it?" Ron asked over a mouthful of bacon. "He never left the school at all!"

"Except this last time," Ginny pointed out. "But why is he locking himself up? It doesn't make any sense."

"It is a bit odd," Hermione admitted. "I suppose he's pushing himself to his limit, trying to help the Ministry stay on top of things with the Death Eaters, and running the Order of the Phoenix. Being in charge of a school like Hogwarts would be hard enough."

Harry had been quiet during their whole exchange. For the most part, he agreed with them, except for one minor detail that still bothered him. If Dumbledore had been at Hogwarts all this time, why wasn't he helping Harry become an Auror like he was supposed to? Harry had checked out the books Professor Darkholme had suggested. Some of them had words only Hermione would understand, but he was finding the various potions effects inside interesting. Harry wondered in-between the piles of homework they were all wading through whether any of these would be useful during a battle with one of Voldemort's Death Eaters. He had been going over during his spare time what might work to give him the element of surprise.

So far, the ones he liked best were for blinding an opponent, creating a thick cloud of impossible night that no magic could see through, and one particularly gruesome elixar that could turn a person inside out. The pictures of it's effects were quite graphic. Harry himself had no intentions of using it, yet he copied it down nonetheless.

Throughout the whole day, Harry scarcely had a moment to himself. Everywhere he went, someone seemed to be following close behind. At least one of his Professors kept a close eye on him whenever they passed in the corridors. McGonagal no doubt had spared no time in passing the word along that Harry's every move was to be monitored. Piled on top of this was the fact that people were watching him even more closely now. Most of the whispers following after him were from a distance. Nobody wanted to run the risk of getting too close to him, for fear that they might find themselves in some terrible danger. By contrast, members of the D.A. kept near to his side every chance they got. Their presence was actually comforting. Harry didn't want to be thought of as a magnet for danger, though ironically, he thought it was a bit late for people to be realizing this. Having someone from the D.A. near him gave him at least some comfort amid this newest storm.

Except for one small detail.

Rayne's second letter had been but a total of two lines. He had been hoping for more, and because of this latest crisis, there wasn't a moment he could have to himself for checking it again. Harry hoped there would be some small clue he hadn't noticed before. When he finally did managed to whip it out for a few seconds, it looked exactly the same as before. No invisible words pened in secret ink appeared; he even tried using a revelation spell he'd found in the Marauder's Manual. Nothing worked, though.

_Go and see the Oracle of the Four Seasons as soon as you can._

_You'll be safe in your room from now on._

_Rayne_

How he was supposed to get out of Gryffindor tower alone, much less the now even more heavily guarded school, was beyond him. Harry supposed he would just have to worry about it later on. The Map might provide him with an opening eventually, if he kept a close eye on it. Because of this latest attack, he was watching it for any signs of Malfoy doing something suspicious. There had to be some way of keeping track of him. Harry could pull the Map out during class. That left far too many opportunities for Malfoy to slip away. Harry knew he was behind the attack on him. McGonagal had said nothing about it since the morning after in her office. Harry considered asking her once, but decided against it.

It looked as though he was going to have to find proof on his own.

Luckily, everyone in the D.A. seemed more than willing to help. Harry thought perhaps that Ginny had let it slip, but it turned out to be Neville who informed everyone. People seemed especially keen on the idea of keeping tabs on Malfoy's comings and goings. Some of the sixth years had classes with him, so that made things much easier. Harry had been hoping to talk to Bloodmoon about it. There was no guarantee, of course, that he would help. Neither Hermione nor Ron thought it was a particularly good idea, but it mattered not in the end. Bloodmoon never showed up for their meeting, leaving Harry wondering if he wasn't somehow involved in it, too.

That night, Harry decided to turn in early. His brain was rung out from all the homework he had done, which no doubt was not up to his usual standards. His mind kept drifting between thoughts of what Malfoy might be up to, and what Rayne had meant by telling him to see the Oracle. After wrapping up his last essay on nonverbal charms, he saw that the whole paragraph contained numerous spelling errors, and it had to be rewritten. It was much better than Ron's, however, who had been using a month-old Check-Spell Quill from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Hermione saw what he was doing, and had to correct the whole thing from top to bottom. Harry had to laugh when she read out loud where he had put down that 'nungurdlb nsjick wzz complushed baye fukkuseyng chu...'

When his head hit the pillow, Harry found himself drifting off to sleep. He didn't hear Ron or Neville stumble in much later, their own brains wrung completely out. Harry's dreams were filled with conflicting spell books that kept shouting to him about cheating, all using Hermione's voice. Then, the Marauder's Manual fell on top of him, only it was at least six times it's normal size. When Harry managed to lift it off him, the words on the pages made no sense. Rayne's voice was suddenly whispering in his ear, telling him to see the Oracle. Harry looked all around, but it was too dark to tell which way it was coming from.

Something fluttered overhead. Harry ducked as packs of owls swooped down over him, dropping armfuls of letters. Only, none of them were actually letters. They looked like the cards the Oracle had used to read everyone's future during their Hogsmeade visit. Suddenly, the Oracle was standing in front of him, holding out a piece of parchment to him that had a picture of the Four Seasons on it.

"Come and see me!" she kept shouting.

Harry awoke with a start, sweat pouring out of his body as he raised up off the bed. The room was icy cold, and the moisture on his body made him shiver uncontrollably. Crawling out of bed, he peeled off the sticky clothing and dumped it in a pile on the floor. On the other side of his bed, he noticed the window open. The whole area around it was soaking wet. As Harry approached, it was easy to see why. Outside, it was pouring down a frozen sheet of rain. It was so dark, Harry couldn't see down to the Qudditch pitch.

Slamming the window shut, Harry found a clean pair of clothes and sat down on the edge of his bed. He really didn't feel like sleeping anymore. His body was far too wired now, anyway. Looking around for something to take his mind off things, an idea struck him. Pulling the Marauder's Map out of his trunk, Harry pressed the tip of his wand against the parchment and whispered softly.

"_I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good._"

Lines bled in, forming the hallways and various rooms of the castle. Harry searched for any sign of Malfoy, and finally located the dot with the Slytherin's name down in the dungeon. That was where the Slytherin common room was. Apparently, whatever Malfoy was planning, he wasn't doing anything tonight. Harry almost put the Map up, but then saw something. At first, he wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for, but then it dawned on him. There wasn't a dot with Morgan Bloodmoon's name. Curious, Harry spent the next several minutes trying to locate him. This would have normally been much easier. However, Hogwarts castle was much busier at night these days. Too many Aurors patroled the corridors, along with various teachers. Several rooms had at least one occupant, and they were seldom there for very long. His brain was still tired from worrying all day about where Malfoy might have gone, and what Rayne's letter had meant, to concentrate on the task.

Suddenly, Harry knew what he was going to do. Folding the Map up, he stuffed it in his robes and dug through the trunk again for his Invisibility Cloak. Pulling it out, he also drew out several clothes more suited for winter time. It took several more minutes to dress up, and in his haste, Harry tripped and nearly fell backwards over the dresser next to his bed. His hand landed on something sharp, making him curse in surprise. Thankfully, the mitten was thick enough that it didn't pierce his skin. Harry picked up what had fallen off, and saw it was the strange emerald colored pyramid. The artifact seemed to glimmer in the dim candlelight for a moment, reflecting it's sparkles in his eyes.

He had found it with the Marauder's Manual, yet hadn't given much thought since there as to what it could be. For several weeks, it had remained stuffed in one of his pockets, until the sharp tip scraped against his leg too much to bear. Now that he was holding it, Harry had the sudden urge to take it along with him. Slipping it down in the folds of his robes, he then threw the Invisibility Cloak over his head and slipped out the door.

The common room was empty. Harry hadn't bothered to check what time it was, but he guessed it was after midnight. Stiffling a yawn, he slipped out past the Fat Lady's portrait, who thankfully was still snoozing. Down through the the castle he wandered, the Marauder's Map in one hand so he could keep track of the Aurors and members of the Order on dilligent patrol.

It wasn't easy. Around every corner, Harry found himself having to double back or spend several long and cold moments standing in the shadows waiting. The castle hallways seemed even more heavily guarded than before. He almost considered turning back around, but something in his gut pushed him forward. It seemed to take twice as long as it should have, but Harry finally reached the statue of the one-eyed witch. Unfortunately, it seemed he had made the trip for nothing.

A blue-haired old woman Harry didn't recognize was standing directly in front of the statue, guarding it. Harry had the sneaky suspicion she was guarding it, for every few minutes, she would look to the right or left as though watching for something. He didn't see any sort of official robe or badge on her, which meant she was probably a member of the Order in disguise.

Thinking for a moment, Harry looked around for something he could use to distract her. The only thing he had was the strange pyramid stone still currently poking him in the leg. Harry raised it up underneath the Invisibility Cloak for a second, observing it. The serpent carving was still visible somehow in the dim corridor. Harry gripped it in his hand for several seconds before silently putting the stone back in his pocket. Thinking quickly, he drew out his wand and took a deep, slow breath.

He had yet to grasp the concept of nonverbal spells. So far, the hours spend with Flitwick and McGonagal had earned him nothing but extra homework and a great deal of frustration. The spell he had in mind, however, wasn't difficult to pull off. So long as he kept his mind clear and the spell firmly in his thoughts, he could do this. Harry waved his wand underneath the Cloak and silently thought the word, _'Reducto'._

Nothing happened.

Harry tried again, and again, but it wouldn't work. Frustrated, he debated for a moment simply trying to slip past her. If it was indeed a member of the Order of the Phoenix, though, his plan stood little chance of success. Feeling frustrated with the situation and his ineptness, Harry considered seriously giving up. Even if the Oracle was awake now and willing to see him, there was still no real proof that Rayne would be waiting for him. He had spent the last months waiting for some sign from her, until it had become a constant ache inside of him. If Rayne really did want to see him, then why hadn't she just come forward?

Steeling himself, Harry stood there shivering in the cold, waiting for an opportunity. He had no idea how long he stood there for. The wait was made even longer by the dropping cold that sent his body into shivers. He kept his teeth from chattering and giving his position away by biting his lower lip. Finally, the guard's gaze wandered off to her right, and Harry could hear the sound of footsteps approaching.

It was Kingsley Shaklebolt. The woman eyed him warily for a moment, then cleared her throat. "The phoenix burns to ash in the wintertime," she spoke in a familiar voice.

"But it rises again from it's own ash in the spring," Shacklebolt finished.

The woman nodded, and her form seemed to melt away. To Harry surprise, he found himself looking at Tonk, who was eyeing the head of the Auror department with a world-weary expression.

"I'm surprised Dumbledore had you come in tonight," Tonk admitted, as he took her place. "I thought you were supposed to be watching the Muggle House of Parliment?"

"I got pulled off duty," he replied. "Scrimgeour thinks I'm here to spy on Harry for him. He's finally got word about what happened up in Gryffindor tower."

Tonks nodded. "I know. He probably expects you to spirit him away in the middle of the night. I wonder what Dumbledore will have you do if it comes to that."

"Dumbledore knows what he's doing," the Auror insisted, calmly. "How are things you with? Any improvement?"

Tonks looked the other way, close to where Harry was against the wall. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have..."

"It's... okay," she said, at last. "I'm going to have a word with Dumbledore soon. It's getting harder to shapeshift into other forms while..."

Kingsley nodded when she didn't finish. "That's not such a bad idea. If you'd like, I'll speak to him in the morning in his office."

"Thank you," Tonks said, before walking away.

Harry would have liked to ponder what he'd just overheard more, but his mind was still occupied by the current predicament. If getting past Tonks would have been difficult, managing it with Kingsley Shaklebolt seemed impossible. Pulling out the Map, Harry searched for another passage that wouldn't be guarded. He remembered that the other passages leading into Hogsmeade were protected by Filch. And if Filch knew about them, chances were, so did every member of the Order. As he scanned the surface, Harry noticed a singluar figure running towards them. Looking up, he spotted the Auror at the exact same time that Kingsley did.

"Shacklebolt, sir," the wizard gasped. "I'm sorry, sir. But Professor Snape sent me to find you."

"What's wrong?" Harry listened as well, intrigued.

"It's one of the Slytherin students, sir. He's gone missing! Professor Snape asked me to report to you."

"Which one?"

Harry already had an idea. "I don't know," the man admitted. "I didn't ask."

Kingsley sighed. "We'd better go speak with him, then."

Harry watched as the two of them ran off back the same way. He couldn't believe his good fortune! Rushing towards the statue, he tapped the hump on the witch's back and muttered the word to open it. When the hump seperated, Harry quickly dove down the small opening, his Cloak flapping wildly about as he fell to the dark underground passage far beneath. From there, Harry dashed madly to the other end, taking great care not to make a sound as he exited out into the Honeydukes basement. It was pitch blank in there, and he wasted several embarassing minutes almost running into things. Each time, Harry seemed to gain a sense of his surroundings just in time to avoid a disaster. It was still time consuming, nonetheless. He had no idea how long it would take to get back, and Shacklebolt would have most likely returned by then.

A renewed determination had filled him, though. Reaching the top part of the store, Harry went straight for the locked door, performing _Alohamora_ as he went, and stepped out into the cold, windy air of the night.

The streets were absolutely deserted. Not a single light shone from behind the windows, save for the Hog's Head in the distance. Getting his bearings, Harry retraced his steps from that morning several weeks ago, and eventually found himself standing outside the same oddly-shaped tree. The door was still there, and a light could be seen bleeding out from around the edges. Harry could see the two dog-like statues, as well.

Harry stood there in front of the door for a moment, then tentatively raised a hand to knock. Before he could, though, a loud voice called out from the other side. "It's open!" a female voice told him. "You can come in!"

The door swung back before he could touch the knob. Harry had to blink several times before his vision cleared enough from the bright lights to see. Stepping forward, he spotted one of the young matron girls from before cleaning a table of debris. Several more could be seen in the background, either sweeping the floor or polishing glasses. The one closest, however, motioned for him to come the rest of the way in.

"It's good to see you again, Mr. Potter," she said, warmly. "Our mistress said you would be stopping by tonight. Can I get you anything?"

Harry was too stunned to answer. "You look as though you could use a good warming up. Have a seat at one of the clean tables. I'll let her know you're here, and be right back with something that'll fix you right up. It's a specialty of mine."

Harry watched her go, then did as she asked, picking one that was far out of the way in the Spring section. None of the other girls paid any attention to him. When the girl came back, she was carrying a very large much full of something thick and foamy. Harry reached into his robe to pay, then realized he hadn't brought any money with him.

"It's on the house," she assured him, placing a hand against his arm. "Oh, look! Here she comes now."

Harry turned around to find the Oracle watching him from a few steps away. She wore what might have been the same outfit as last time. For some reason, Harry was having a hard time picturing her then. She looked at him for a moment more, then motioned for the girl to leave. The girl gave his arm one last lingering squeeze before leaving as the Oracle sat down across from him.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd make it," she said, drumming her fingers against the wooden table. "What kept you?"

Harry thought for a moment, then decided to answer honestly. "The passage into Hogsmeade was blocked," he explained. "I had to wait for the guard to leave."

"You could've taken any of the passages. What was so special about that one, other than the chance to nab some extra chocolate?"

"The caretaker knows about the other four," Harry went on. "And the other one is closed off because of a... Hang on! How did you know I was in Hogsmeade?"

The Oracle looked at him as though the answer was obvious. "Please tell me you don't seriously expect me to explain that. Wouldn't having a title like mine be a large enough hint for you? I swear, that daft old fart up the hill really is stuffing your brains with cotton."

The Oracle ceased drumming her fingers and pulled out her deck of cards. "Alright, what will it be?"

It was hard not to be rude, but Harry managed. "I'm sorry. I don't know what you mean, exactly."

"What is your first question," she stated, as if speaking to someone mentally subnormal. "I assume you didn't trek through the icy wind just to have a pretty girl flirt with you for five minutes. No one ever comes here to see me unless there is something of the utmost importance to them, at least as far as they're concerned."

"I... thought you might know where a friend of mine is," Harry admitted, reluctantly. "She wrote me a letter, telling me that I should come see you."

Harry paused, then looked around. "Is she here?"

"I can see here," the Oracle spoke softly. "She's there inside your mind. My, but you do have a knack for getting yourself into messes, don't you?"

"Do you know where she is right now?" Harry pressed.

"Not a clue," the Oracle replied at once, and began shuffling. "And I've had plenty of chances to look, too. There doesn't appear to be any sign of her, as far as my powers can see. Which is a fairly strong statement, I don't mind telling you."

"You can't just..." Harry persisted.

"Not if the cards won't show me. The subject of your reluctant girlfriend is a matter that they've become quite silent about. And if the cards do not which to speak of it, then neither shall I! I'm not so foolish as to make the attempt, nor to let someone as inexperienced as you try."

Harry's heart lurched somewhere down near his stomach regions. Gripping the mug next to him, he tossed his head back and let the contents slid down his throat. The liquid, whatever it was, felt warm and invigorating. The room seemed to grow a bit brighter for a second, but as Harry tried to stand up, he found his legs were quite uncooperative.

"What have I told that girl!" the Oracle grumbled. "Stay right where you are. You're still too much of a lightweight to drink something as heavy as that so quickly."

"I'll be fine," he insisted, though he wasn't so sure himself. "I don't even know why I'm here."

"For the same reason everyone else comes. You came here looking for answers. What I want to know is, do you have the right questions?"

"Why?" Harry stopped, and tried again. "Why didn't you read my fortune with everyone else?"

"No one needs cards or runestones to answer a question as obvious as that. Your future is full of far too many uncertainties and factors. Many of your decisions now are going to have far-reaching consequences, both good and bad. It didn't seem like the sort of thing to discuss in an open pub where the wrong person could overhear. Besides, more than a few of my girls have a nasty habit of gossiping."

"Here," she said, laying her cards out on the table. "This time, I'll be as straightforward as I can. Are you ready to begin?"

"I don't know," he replied. "Will this help me find Rayne? Can any of this help me defeat Voldemort for good?"

The Oracle paused, and considered this for a moment. "Those are very heavy questions to consider. Far larger than what I'm used to from people, and the answers to them won't come cheap."

"I can pay you," he said at once. "I don't have any money on me right now, but at Gringotts..."

"If I wanted money, I could make it myself," she brushed him off. "My business is conducted on a scale far above that of monetary gain."

Confused, Harry pondered this. "So, what do you want?"

She smiled, then. Harry had the feeling that he was being sized up like some sort of prize. "I wonder," she said, shuffling the cards again. "The Champion of the wizarding world is a very precious commodity, one that forces from all sides are willing to fight to control. I wonder what I might gain by having such an asset on my side."

Harry steeled himself. "What do you want?"

The Oracle smiled. "I'll give you one free question. If you can ask me the right one, then everything afterwards is on the house. If you can't come up with the right one, though, you must work for me."

"Doing what?"

"Whatever I can come up with," she replied. "At least until the end of your next term. When the summer begins, you'll be free to take on whatever evil forces you see fit to. From this point on, assuming you fail to ask the proper question, you'll work for me. Is it a deal?"

Harry had no idea what she meant, nor did he feel inclined to play games in exchange for his life. Again, he tried to stand and found that he could. "Walking away won't change anything," she said, as he stumbled past her. "What good has come from doing things their way?"

Harry stopped. "What good has listening to any of them done? The more you try it their way, the worse the outcome grows. Why is someone so young and so full of potential willing to throw his life away for a world that has repeatedly turned it's back on him?"

"Someone has to," he said feebly. "Why shouldn't it be me?"

"No one says it has to be," she pointed out. "The only reason your situation hasn't changed is because you've refused to do anything to change it yourself."

The Oracle gestured to the chair. "Have a seat. Ask me something, just make sure it's the question you want to ask."

Reluctantly, Harry made his way back to his seat. Watching the Oracle shuffle her cards for a moment, he pondered what she had just said to him. "I'll work for you," he said, finally. "At the end of the school year, it's over. Before that time is up, though, I want you to show me a way to defeat Voldemort once and for all."

"How do you know there is such a way?" she challenged.

"There is," he said, with certainty. "I know there is. There has to be one."

The Oracle smiled, then shook her head. "If that had been in the form of a question, you would have gotten me. Looks like you'll be working for me whether you like it or not, though. You ought to learn to watch out for these things."

"Just remember our deal," he said. "I need to know how I can..."

"Defeat the Dark Lord, right," she finished. "I got it."

"And," he added. "I want you to help me locate Rayne. Even if it takes forever, I want to find her."

"She's probably already found you," the Oracle mused, drawing out a card. "If anything, I'd say she only avoids you because you want her to."

Flipping several more cards over, she lay them out in a complex patter. "Now, let's begin."


	14. Chapter 14 Notes from the Dead

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 14

Notes from the Dead

by Ri-kun

Harry stood up from the table and looked around, before realizing that he didn't have anywhere to go at the moment. The Quidditch game wasn't for another hour at least, and classes were canceled in favor of it. In spite of the chill, it had been a remarkably sunny day. The sky was bright for what seemed like the first time in many months. Winds could be heard howling from outside the castle walls, but just the presence of a sunny day seemed to have lifted everyone else's spirits.

Harry knew he was distracted. For the last few weeks of term, his mind had been somewhere else almost constantly. He could feel that everyone knew it, but many had elected to not bring it up. Only those closest to him bothered to ask if he was alright. Harry had found it difficult to admit what had been bothering him, but finally told them all in the common room one evening when there had been very few people hanging around nearby.

"You snuck out of the castle!?"

Hermione had shouted loud enough to alert nearly everyone in the room. Everyone else had glared at her until she sat back down. "I had to," he told her, urgently. "I got a message from Rayne telling me to go talk to her."

"Why would Rayne send you to some old kook?" Ron wondered, skeptically. "You could have gone up to the tower and talked to Trelawney and gotten the same treatment."

"You never went to the Four Seasons with us," Ginny had reminded him. "She's not the same thing. Luna and I both think she's for real."

"Luna's just as big of a nutter," Ron had grumbled.

"Ron, you're an insufferable prat," she bit back. "Harry, what did the Oracle tell you?"

That had been the part he was dreading the most. He had already decided to omit the portion concerning his agreement with the enigmatic Oracle. Harry still wasn't sure that he'd done the right thing, but it had been far too late already to turn back. In any case, she had provided him with several things to think about.

"Aid will fly to you from the land of the dead," Ginny repeated. "The sun will shine on the outcast, prior to a great fall."

"And time will have no meaning," Harry finished for her. "That's what she told me."

Most of it, anyway. Harry had left out the most important parts, mainly due to them being embarassing. He hadn't liked her predictions concerning him personally one bit, but the primary reason for his silence was due to his suspicions that one of the Oracle's readings concerned someone there in particular. The Oracle had given him those three predictions as watchsigns for him to follow.

"'When these three things come to pass,'" he added. "'You will know that I speak true.'"

"Speak true about what?" Ron wondered.

Harry tensed slightly, but Hermione broke in. "I still think Divination is highly impractical," she said, sternly. "And it was a very foolish reason for you to try and sneak out over. What if you had been caught?"

"How did you manage that, anyway?" Ron added, intrigued. "Dumbledore is supposed to have the whole castle under lock and key."

"Same way I always do," Harry had said, shrugging. "Threw the Cloak on and slipped out with the Marauder's Map."

"But there are Order members and Aurors everywhere," Hermione pointed out. "There's no way you could have gotten past all of them. The Invisibility Cloak doesn't make you completely undetectable, and they're trained to spot people who are under concealment charms. It doesn't make sense!"

"I don't know, either. I just slipped past them all. It was like they weren't even looking for me that night."

"You got lucky again, mate," Ron nodded, sounding unhappy about it.

Harry could tell Ron still wasn't quite over being jealous of his promotion in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Though his attitude had improved a great deal, Ron was still prone to slinking back into his former, sullen mood at odd times. It especially would hit him when he was on the Quidditch field during practice, and this had the bad habit of affecting his Keeper performance. Harry had pulled him aside after one particularly bad save and told him point blank to either straighten up or drop off the team. Oddly enough, that had done the trick. He had been hoping that Ron would shape up from now on, but it seemed he was still out of sorts over being second place next to him again.

"Oh, guess what else I heard," he added, hoping this would take Ron's mind off his bad mood. "Tonks was guarding the statue leading down to the tunnel. I overheard her talking for a few minutes, and it sounded like she's in some kind of trouble. Also, Filch came and got Shacklebolt right after he relieved her of her post. He said that one of the Slytherins had gone missing."

All eyes turned to one another. "And... you think it was Malfoy?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know," he admitted. "It could have been, but Filch didn't say."

It was another prediction of the Oracle's that he had left out, though now Harry wondered whether that had been the right thing to do. She had warned him of a threat that he hadn't seen yet, an enemy that was a friend, yet would betray him the moment it was convenient. That one had worried him a lot, for some reason.

"What do you think is wrong with Tonks?" Ginny threw at them.

"Dunno," Ron said, unconcerned. "It may have been something the Ministry did to her. She was held there for a while."

It had been the one thing Harry had opened no one else had thought of, because that had been on his mind, as well. Tonk had taken his place, after all. If the Ministry tortured her in some way, that meant she had taken something that was intended for him.

"I can always write Mum and find out," Ginny offered, seeing the look on Harry's face. "She wrote me to make sure we were staying out of trouble. Mum's been worried sick since she heard about what happened in the tower. I've had loads of owls from her demanding to know why I haven't written her back. It'll be good to have an excuse to write her, just so she'll shut up about it. So far, the only excuse I've had to use was that I'm too busy with O.W.L.s."

"You should have just said you were having trouble," Hermione told her. "I can help you study for O.W.L.s."

"It's not that I'm actually having trouble," she replied, smiling. "But telling Mum that keeps her from writing every other day. Not by much, mind you!"

Each of them laughed, but Harry felt a small pang of envy for a moment. Ginny had not been alone in her daily sweep of owls at breakfast. Parents continued to pelt their children with letters demanding replies at once. Things had once again settled into a more or less semblance of normalacy. These days, laments such as Ginny's could be heard in the hallways all the time. The news continued to be bad on the outside, but for everyone else, it was like hearing of things from a far distance. Lately, there had been fewer attacks of parents of Hogwarts students. The Death Eaters seemed to have shifted their focus for the moment, allowing everyone to breath a sigh of relief.

Only Harry seemed to carry the weight of the world, still. He was perhaps the only one at breakfast to not have his plate scattered by an owl determined to deliver it's post quickly so as to gain some small amount of rest. Hedwig would occasionally make trips down during the morning time just to see how he was doing, but there had been little for her to do these days except pick bacon off his plate.

It made Harry feel even more seperated from everyone else.

The one silver lining was that the term was almost over. Their next Quidditch match was this afternoon, followed by a Hogsmeade weekend just before they would all pack up and leave for the Burrow. Harry was looking forward to this Christmas at the Weasleys with an empowered zeal. With all that had been going on, he had nearly forgotten about the holidays entirely, until McGonagal had passed around the list for students who would be staying behind. It had made him feel warm all over to know that his name wasn't on there.

Ron was having his usual attack of nerves. All through breakfast, he had looked as though he might throw up. Harry was used to this by now, though, and opted to ignore him in favor of settling his own stomach. The usual Quidditch fanfare was all over the place. Even their teachers seemed to be caught up in the storm of it. This match pitted them against Ravenclaw. Harry was relieved to not be worrying about Malfoy for once. So far, it looked like Draco had been behaving himself. Harry still hadn't been able to learn which Slytherin it was that snuck out the other night. Unlike the rest at his table, Malfoy was sitting off to himself, looking rather morose about something. It made Harry wonder, but for the time being, he was keeping his mind on the match at hand. Afterwards, maybe he would learn something. Until then, for the sake of his team, he had to stay focused.

This was easier said than done, though. There were a myrid of problems swarming through his brain, looking to distract him. To keep his mind from wandering, Harry had taken to rubbing the stone in his robe pocket absentmindedly. Touching it had become nearly second nature to him by now. Harry couldn't begin to explain his attraction to it, even to himself. Holding it calmed him down each night when he dwelled too frequently on the threat of Voldemort, as well as the enormous pressures he was under inside Hogwarts. Every moment of his day was spent pushing himself harder and longer. Classes were a burden, and only through the aid of the Marauder's Manual was he able to cope. Harry had moved on to teaching some of the less dangerous-sounding spells to the D.A.

This had lead to a rather unpleasant conversation with Ginny early this morning just before breakfast. He had neglected to mention the Marauder's Manual to her before, and apparently, Ron had not brought it up with her, either. When Ginny learned what it was and where he'd obtained it from, she was less than pleased.

Even now, Harry would catch her looking over towards where he sat. It bothered him more than he cared to admit. Ginny was rarely ever upset with him, and with the match so close, he needed to be on good terms with all his team members. Things were bad enough with Ron.

When Ginny got up, Harry watched her leave the Great Hall, and came to a decision. Getting to his feet, he worked his way down between the tables and out the main door after her. Ginny was already headed up the stairs when he stepped into the foyer. Filch was standing guard at his usual post, holding the Dark Detector in his hands and eyeing Harry threateningly. Harry ignored him and chased after Ginny, finally catching up to her on the second floor.

"Come with me," he said, seizing her by the arm.

"Harry..." she protested, but Harry wouldn't let her go.

"I need to show you something," he insisted, taking her up the stairs that led to the Gryffindor Tower. "It's very important."

"Harry, we're going to be late for the match!"

Ginny tried to free herself from his grip, but Harry held her firmly in place. They were standing in front of the Fat Lady's portrait now, who eyed him with a blatantly disapproving scowl for a moment.

"Password?" she inquired, when Ginny grew quiet.

"Wronsky Feint," Harry stated, stepped aside as the portrait swung open to allow them entry.

"Up here," he told her, leading her by the arm to his dorm. "I wanted to show you the Marauder's Manual."

"What for?" she wondered, looking around the common room.

"To prove to you that it isn't dangerous," he stated, kicking the door open.

Ginny didn't move as Harry disengaged the booby trap spell on his trunk. He'd forgone the spell Luna had shown to him in favor of one found near the back of the Manual. Throwing the lid up, he began tossing out handfuls of dirty socks and underwear, not seeing the blush on Ginny's face as a pair of boxers landed near her.

"Here!" he said triumphantly, holding it up. "See? It's just an ordinary book. It doesn't talk to you, or write secret messages in ink on the pages. There's nothing in here but a bunch of trick spells and stuff that my parents made when they were at school."

"Why would they hide it, though?" she wondered, running a hand nervously over the surface.

"Dunno," he admitted. "Maybe for the same reason Filch had the Marauder's Map in his office. They might have hidden it on the second floor to keep it away from him. In any case, there's nothing dangerous about it. I've been using this for months, and nothing bad has happened."

Ginny took a deep breath and let it out. "You're right. Sorry I got so upset this morning."

Harry grinned. "I guess you haven't had many good experiences with books, huh?"

"I never got what Hermione saw in them, anyway," she replied, trembling slightly. "Oh, and speaking of which, Ron and Hermione are dating now."

That took a moment for Harry to digest. "Huh?"

Ginny grinned. "Hermione gave Ron until the end of today to tell you. She's been after him for weeks to fess up to them being a couple now."

"I..." Harry began, then stopped. "When did this happen?"

"Right after the two of you started fighting." Ginny appeared to be enjoying his reaction. "Incidentally, I never could get either of them to explain to me what it was all about. Ron kept saying it was none of my business, and I think Hermione was worried I would panic. Guess she was right."

"They've been going out all this time?" Harry felt a bit foolish at having not noticed. "Why keep it a secret?"

"Hermione is worried the other girls will make fun of her for two-timing you," Ginny explained to him, as if lecturing Harry on a Charms essay. "A lot of the girls have been harassing her for a while now over being your girlfriend. They think the reason you don't pay attention to them is because of her. It's gotten really bad recently. And Ron is just a coward at heart."

Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that. Truthfully, them keeping it a secret from him hurt worse than anything. Still, it wasn't like he could just pretend that he hadn't seen this coming. A year ago, he would have been worried over finding himself suddenly the odd man out. Now...

"That's part of why Ron is so nervous," Ginny added, as they made their way back down the stairs. "He's has several chances to tell you, but keeps putting it off. Hermione gave him the ultimatum right after breakfast. I thought I'd warn you ahead of time."

"Thanks for the heads up," he told her, as the portrait swung open again. "I think I'll..."

Harry stopped as he noticed Ron standing in front of him, wearing a sour expression and being shadowed by none other than Morgan Bloodmoon. Morgan had his wand out, and it was pointed down towards Ron's buttocks. Harry saw Ron was clutching his rear desperately, as though terrified it might fall off.

"Ron?" he asked, tenatively.

"Sorry to trouble you," Morgan began, nervously. "Good to see your common room is unoccupied at the moment. I can imagine the sort of welcome I would get if any of your fellow Gryffindors were to catch me up here."

"It's okay, I think," Harry replied. "What's wrong?"

"Well, to put it simply," and Morgan withdrew his wand. Instantly, Ron's robes tore in back all the way down the middle. Morgan gave what might have been an appraising nod for a moment, then turned back to Harry.

"I think the situation speaks for itself," he finished. "Seems someone put a Permanent Tearing Charm on his robes. No doubt as a prank to rattle him."

"I'm fine!" Ron all but shouted, struggling to keep himself covered.

"His robes can't be mended," Morgan explained quickly. "I've tried several times, but the moment I move my wand away, they split again."

"We'll take care of him," Harry said, pulling Ron through the opening before someone saw. "Thank you, Morgan."

"It was my pleasure, Harry Potter. See you on the Quidditch field!"

The portrait had barely swung back before Ron flew into a fit. "I bet that little sneak is the one who did it!" he ranted, keeping his backsides away from Ginny, who couldn't keep from laughing. "He probably did this just to try and butter up to you, Harry. I couldn't believe that little snot, walking up calm as you please and offering to help."

Ron adapted an appropriate if highly off-key imitation of Morgan's voice. "'Seems like you have a bit of a problem there, Weasley. Mind if I give it a go?' Honestly, that little git is worse than Malfoy!"

"He's not so bad," Harry admitted, following Ron back up the stairs. "He's actually one of the best D.A. members we have."

"When he bothers to show up," Ginny reminded him. "I haven't seen him at the meetings for several weeks, and a Slytherin there is hard to miss. Ron, why didn't you just mend your robes yourself?"

"Didn't you hear him?" he snapped. "They just tear again. And it's real hard for me to point my wand in that direction. Incidentally, stop staring at me, or I'll tell Mum about your slipping out your bedroom this past summer."

"Try it," she replied, cooly. "And I write to Fred and George and give them every detail of this."

That shut Ron up, and he resumed attacking Morgan Bloodmoon as the instigator. Harry tuned him out and opened Ron's trunk, searching for something he could change into.

"Put these on," he said, holding out Ron's Quidditch robes. "You might as well go ahead and get dressed for the match."

"I think I will, too," Ginny said quickly, hopping down off Ron's bed. "See you down on the Quidditch field, Harry."

Harry waited until Ginny left before retrieving his own Quidditch robes. He and Ron each changed quickly, Harry finished ahead of him and reaching into his robe pocket for the green pyramid stone held there. His fingers slid over the smooth surface for a moment as Harry pondered who might have made it, and for what purpose. As he slipped the stone into his Quidditch robes, a horrible tearing sound filled the room. Looking behind him, he saw Ron standing there with an awful expression on his face. Harry saw immediately what the problem was.

It seemed that whoever had placed the Tearing Charm on Ron had been aiming for his body and not the robes he was wearing. Ron's Quidditch robes were ripped asunder in exactly the same manner his regular robes had been only moments before. His entire backside was exposed, revealing more than Harry ever wanted to know.

Ron did the only sensible thing. He panicked.

"How could this happen?!" he screamed, hyperventilating. "I thought the curse was on my robes, not me! The match is going to start soon. I can't play falling out of my robes like this. Harry, what am I going to do?!"

"Calm down," Harry told him, thinking quickly. "The Marauder's Manual probably has an antidote to the curse."

"Where?!" Ron insisted. "We don't have time to look for one. The match could be over before we found it!"

"Right, right..." Harry admitted, trying to think. His first thought was to take Ron up to the Hospital Wing, but by the time they got to Madame Pomfrey, the match would be ready to start. Without a Seeker or a Keeper, Gryffindor would wind up losing to Ravenclaw by forfeit.

Inspiration struck him. "Take off your robes!"

"What for?" Ron wondered.

"Just do it," he insisted, stripping down out of his own. "I've got an idea. You take my robes, and I'll put yours on."

After he had fixed them, of course. Ron looked at Harry like he was crazy, but silently began peeling out of what remained of his once-proud Keeper robes. When Ron handed them over to him, Harry quickly cast a repairing charm over them while Ron slipped into his. Ron was completely dressed by the time Harry finished, and the robes didn't have so much as a loose thread on them.

"Cool," Ron said, grinning.

"I thought that might work," Harry said, satisfied. "There was a spell like that mentioned in the Manual, designed to only affect items that belonged to the person it was cast on. I figured the same might be true for you. It was worth trying, anyway."

"Good call. Let's get down to the Quidditch field."

The stands surrounding the Quidditch field were filled to capacity by the time Ron and Harry made it down. An encompassing roar went up through the crowd at the sight of him. Ron thankfully elected to not make a big deal of this, and together they hurried over to the changing rooms to meet up with the rest of the team.

"Where have you both been?" Ginny demanded, when they closed the door behind them. "We were all worried something had happened to you?"

She was saying this mostly to Harry, but nodded in Ron's direction at the last second, too. "We're fine," Harry assured her. "Ron just had a little trouble getting into his robes."

"Permanent Tearing Charm?" Ginny inquired in a low voice so Katie Bell wouldn't hear.

"Very permanent," he nodded. "But we fixed it."

Ginny looked Harry over. "Aren't those Ron's robes you're wearing?" she asked, gesturing to the length in which they dragged the ground.

"No wonder I kept tripping!" he sighed, pulling out his wand to reduce them. "I must have fallen twelve times on the way down here."

"Seems like something you wound have noticed."

"Well," Harry grumbled at her snickering. "I was in a hurry. Come on, let's get out there and win the match!"

The shouts became ear-splitting as the Gryffindors wandered onto the field. Up in the stands. At least half the crowd was decorated in the Gryffindor colors. The Slytherins had, of course, elected to support Ravenclaw by default, though both houses still kept a respectable distance from one another.

Harry eyed the Ravenclaw team as they stood opposite them. When Madame Hooch brought out the Quidditch balls, Harry thought he saw a glint of something flicker in the sunlight the Ravenclaw captain's pocket. A second later, however, Madame Hooch blew her whistle for them all to take to the air. Leaning towards the side of caution, Harry kept a distance between himself and the female captain, who seemed keen for some reason to keep a close eye on him. In addition, he found himself watching the skys at odd moments. The Snitch had already been released, and the match was well under way. Harry was going to have a hard time keeping his mind on track. It hadn't occured to him how unnerved he really was.

Finally, he couldn't stay so close to the ground anymore. Checking to make sure his wand was still secured in his robes, Harry took to the sky and swooped around the stadium, keeping a sharp eye on the ground for anything that might reflect in the sunlight. The advantage today was in that the sky was nearly cloudless. This provided him with ample sunlight to see by. And additional bonus lay in the fact that there was virtually no cloud cover for attackers to hide under. Whatever Malfoy might be planning, it would have to wait till another day. For now, Harry kept his mind on the match.

The Ravenclaw team was in rare form. Harry thought they played spectacularly from his position high overhead. It should have been a tough match, except for one surprising factor. Each time the Ravenclaws brought the Quaffle towards the goal, Ron was there to knock it away. Harry had never seen anybody play so well. Ron flew as though he and his Cleansweep Seven were a single unit. Not only did the Quaffle not get anywhere near the three rings he was guarding, Ron also managed to bat it away to one of the Chasers nearly every time. Ravenclaw played as though their lived depended on it, but it still wasn't enough.

So caught up in watching Ron play, Harry didn't noticed when the Ravenclaw Seeker dove towards the ground. The crowd began to roar in earnest, forcing him to look. When he saw what the other Seeker was doing, it felt like a lead weight had dropped into his stomach. Harry turned his Firebolt and zoomed off. Thanks to the superior broomstick's speed, he was on him in seconds. However, there was still a precious few feet between himself and the Snitch. They were both diving at breakneck speed. Harry realized with a jolt what was about to happen, and yanked his broom up at the very last second. A horrible crunch came from behind him as the Ravenclaw Seeker slammed headlong into the ground. The Snitch was just up ahead, but Harry couldn't resist turning around to see if he was okay.

Madame Hooch called for a time out while Madame Pomfrey was brought out to check him over. Both teams congregated on the ground in a group not far away. Harry noticed that the same silvery package was in the Ravenclaw captain's hand now, and she kept glancing his way every few minutes. Finally, Madame Pomfrey rose up and announced that the Seeker was to be removed from the match due to a pair of broken arms, an injured neck, and a severely sprained knee.

"Does the Ravenclaw team have a replacement Seeker?" Madame Hooch asked, as the Seeker was being carried off.

"We did," the captain answered, reluctantly. "But they were sent home last week. We haven't found anyone to fill the slot yet."

Madame Hooch glanced from the Ravenclaw captain over to Harry. "Without a full roster, Ravenclaw will have to forfeit to Gryffindor."

None of the Ravenclaw's looked happy about it. It didn't sit well with Harry, either, but there didn't seem to be anything he could do. The Quidditch field was left with an anticlimatic feel as the crowds filled out one after the other. Harry's team stayed behind for a moment with him. None of them looked as though they wanted to celebrate out in the open. He could only concure with their feelings. It was a lousy way to win, especially given how everyone had been looking forward to today's match.

"I guess we should go inside," he told them all.

"I would have rather played all the way through," Ginny admitted, as they headed towards the changing room. "Did you see the way Ron was playing, though?"

"I know!" he said, looking towards his friend. "You were amazing out there."

"Thanks," Ron replied, swelling up a little. "Has anyone seen Hermione?"

"She's probably waiting for you up in the common room."

"Oh," was all Ron said.

Harry smiled a little, and clapped him on the shoulder. "You two make a good couple. It's okay, by the way. I know all about you two. And that Hermione told you to tell me before the day is over with."

"What?" Ron asked, surprised. "I mean, I don't know... How did you know about that?"

"Ginny told me," he admitted, which made Ron scowl in her direction. Ginny just ignored him and walked on ahead.

"I really am okay with it," Harry insisted. "And you can tell her I know, so she'll stop bothering you about it. This way, you didn't even have to worry about how to bring it up. I suspect that's why she didn't come down to the field to meet you. She wanted to give you time to think about how to say it."

"Right," Ron said, though it sounded like he wasn't convinced. "Well, thanks... I guess."

Ron fished in his robes for a moment, then withdrew the green pyramid stone from them. "Thought you might like to have this back, whatever it is. It was poking me in the leg through the whole map. And it's burning hot, too! Be careful."

Harry held the stone up in his bare hands. "It feels cool to me."

"What?" Ron touched the stone gingerly. "I could feel the heat through the fabric the whole time. Maybe it was just body heat, or something?"

The stone still felt cool in Harry's palm. He pocketed it as they reached the changing room. "I'll unshrink your robes later and get them back to you," he said, noting how his barely reached Ron's knees.

"After I get this stupid curse taken off me," Ron noted, gravely.

The Ravenclaw captain was standing next to the door, as if waiting for someone. Harry stiffened at the sight of her, but she kept her head down, avoiding meeting his eyes. As Ron opened the door, Harry caught a flicker of movement in the reflection of his glasses. There was a flash of something silver, and his wand was suddenly in his hand. Harry drew himself down near the ground in a crouch and fired off a hex without thinking. The small package in the Ravenclaw captain's hand exploded on contact, scorching her fingers and showering down silver glitter all over them.

"Bastard!" the girl swore, glaring at Harry hatefully. "What did you do that for?"

"I..." Harry looked up at her, and saw that there were tears in her eyes. "What was that?"

"It was a gift!" she howled. "I was supposed to give it to you. It was a silver carrying case for your wand from Rowena Juniper!"

Harry gulped, and stood up again. "I'm sorry," he said, sincerely. "I thought that..."

"That what?!" she shrieked. "That I was going to attack you? With a wand carrying case?"

Privately, that was exactly what Harry had thought. Wisely, he kept it to himself and merely watched as the girl stormed off in tears. "That could have gone better," Ron noted, over his shoulder. "You know, if this is some new ploy to keep girls away from you, I could recommend a few less-traumatic methods. You could send them my way, for example."

"I thought you were with Hermione?"

"Well..." Ron stammered. "I could let them down easy, though."

"Or Hermione could just kill you, and put their bodies into a Raxiponderous Curse as punishment," Ginny said while glaring. "What was going on out there? It sounded like you were being attacked. Katie almost went charging through the door."

"I did not!" Katie responded loudly from somewhere in back.

"Harry thought the same thing," Ron told her. "As it turned out, Harry was just working on his aim, using a girl's feelings for target practice."

Harry sighed, and relayed the whole story to Ginny on their way back up to the Gryffindor tower. Ron had to make a detour up to Madame Pomfrey's, and promised to inquire about the Ravenclaw Seeker while he was there. Ginny was still laughing about the whole affair when the reached the Fat Lady's portrait and gave the password. He and Ginny both wound up being knocked back by enthusiastic greeters determined to pull Harry inside piece by piece, if necessary.

"Good job with tricking the other Seeker into making that dive!" someone shouted.

"I didn't," he said, while being shoved into the center of the room.

"Brilliant play," said another. "Wish I had thought of it."

"I didn't..." he tried again, but no one would hear it, of course. Apparently, anything Harry did was considered on purpose. It made him feel slightly bad about winning, but none of the other Gryffindors had a problem with celebrating now that they were out of sight from the rest of the school.

A few minutes later, Hermione managed to push her way to the center of the room. Several Gryffindor girls seemed determined to keep her away from him, but Harry seized her by the hand and helped drag her over to his side on the sofa.

"I saw the whole match," she said breathlessly, glaring back over her shoulder. "Wasn't Ron amazing? Where is he, anyway?"

"Up in the Hospital Wing," Harry answered. "Don't worry," he added, at the look on her face. "It's nothing serious. Just someone's idea of a practical joke gone array. I'll let him tell it to you when he gets back."

Hedwig fluttered down from the rafters and lighted on his shoulder. Harry brushed her hair as she nipped at his hand playfully. "She was waiting for you here when I got back," Hermione told him. "She had this letter attached to her leg."

Hermione pulled it out of her robes and passed it to him. "I only took it off because a couple of second year girls kept trying to read it. I think..."

Harry didn't hear what else she said. He had already torn open the letter and pulled out the contents within. There appeared to be two seperate letters addressed to him within, yet he'd barely glanced at the first one before the handwriting on the second registered.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, worriedly. "Are you alright?"

"It's from Sirius." Harry looked up at her in shock. "Hermione, this letter is from Sirius!"


	15. Chapter 15 Hogsmeade Burning

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 15

_**Hogsmeade Burning**_

by Ri-kun

_Dear Harry..._

_If Griphook at the Gringotts bank did as I asked him to do, then by the time you have read this letter, I will have been dead for several months. I realize hearing from me out of the blue like this will no doubt be a shock for you, but I had to take precautions. I cannot trust at this point that Dumbledore will do everything that I've asked him to. Therefore, I took a chance and arranged for this letter, and one other, to be delivered to you at Hogwarts. Hopefully, it will arrive just before you leave on holiday._

_Hopefully, my death did not come for many more years. If that is the case, then this letter has no meaning. However, I thought to err on the side of precaution for once. I will not remain at Grimauld Place for much longer. I escaped from Azkaban only to find myself in another prison altogether. This one carries a weight far greater than anything a dementor could push upon me, and there isn't a Patronus mighty enough to counteract it. Were there, I am sure Moony would have conjured it for me years before now._

_This house holds too many demons for me, Harry. Everywhere I turn, there is something that reminds me of life here from years ago. I have spent some time thinking, and it is time I made my decision. I will not be staying hidden for much longer. The house is to be left in your care, if what Dumbledore says is true. I have not made it clear to him about my plans to leave, though I'm sure he suspects it. It feels cruel to risk abandoning you in such a way, Harry, but I was never meant to be the man sitting on the sidelines while his friends died in his place. Forgive me, if this has left you all alone._

_There are no excuses I could give, but I hope perhaps someday you understand. In this envelope, you will find the name of a goblin at an office at Gringotts. He was assigned to balance your parents books and maintain order over them until you came of age. It is vital you go and see him posthaste. He has much to tell you, things of which I cannot risk putting in writing. You can trust him. James relied on his counsel many times in the years prior to his death._

_You are the son I never had, Harry. I hope you believe me when I tell you that James and Lily couldn't have been prouder of you. You've done more in your short lifetime than ten wizards three times your age could have. Each time I look at you, I consider myself lucky to have been named your godfather. _

_Thank you!_

_Sirius Black_

Harry had the letter tucked away in his pocket for safe keeping. A more reasonable place would have been at the bottom of his trunk, which Hermione had suggested at least twice, but Harry wanted to keep it with him. Having it close by made his chest well up with emotion at strange times throughout the day, but it also gave him a sense of security. That was something he'd been missing for a while, especially within the last few months. He kept that in his thoughts as they all packed up their things for the trip home.

Everyone at Hogwarts seemed excited to be heading home for the holidays. Harry had been worried no one would want to risk the journey home, but virtually all in the castle had avoided the sign-up sheet to stay. There had only been one or two names listed by the time they had loaded up their trunks. Ginny's friend from Hufflepuff, Mary Shoewitter, was one of the few. He overheard Ginny mentioning to Hermione as the boarded the train how she was staying behind because her parents were still overseas. Ron and Hermione both had their prefect duties, so Harry was left alone with Luna, Ginny, and Neville in a compartment of their own. Being this close to all the other students at once meant, of course, that they were forced to endure yet another horde of giggling younger girls lurking out in the hallways near their door.

"I just wish they'd go away!" Ginny fumed after a while. "I keep thinking one of us is going to say something that they'll twist out of proportion and tell everyone else."

"I think they're funny," Luna noted, over her latest edition of the Quibbler. She was holding this particular one sideways, Harry noted, but he already knew the reason. Apparently, the Quibbler was running an article about a new theory that inverted runes sideways could ward away Death Eater attacks.

"The Quibbler is trying to disprove the theory, of course,' she reassured them. "Even father doesn't believe this one. He was worried from the start about all the new fake dark detectors and Dark magic wards going around. This one proves that they don't work."

"Mum said Dad's been working himself crazy at the Ministry," Ginny threw in. "It sounds like every department is swamped after what happened at Hogsmeade yesterday."

Harry gazed down at the floor. He had known this was going to happen, but talking about it now was uncomfortable. There was no way anything they said wouldn't be overheard. Sure enough, at Ginny's mention of it, the corridor outside grew suspiciously quiet. It seemed this was what they'd been waiting to hear about all along.

"We could always talk about it later," Neville whispered softly. "After we get back, if you'd like."

A deep sigh built up in him. "Does it really matter?" Harry wondered. "They're going to read about it sooner or later."

No one else said a word. They all looked from one another over to Harry, waiting on him to make the first move. Outside, a handful had begun whispering amongst themselves. So many rumors had spread overnight, it was doubtful any of them had a clue as to what really happened. Thinking about it that way made Harry feel sorry for them a little. It seemed like everyone was determined to keep them in the dark; the Ministry, the Order, and even Dumbledore now. Someone needed to stand up and tell the truth.

"It's okay," he promised them. "I won't get upset. Go ahead, if you want to."

"We were all there, Harry," Luna reminded him. "We saw what happened. It's not that we want to talk about it, but we're worried you might need to."

Harry felt touched. "I do," he admitted. "But I don't know if talking will fix anything."

"We went looking for you," Neville spoke up. "After they showed up. Everyone was in a panic, and none of us could find you. At first, we thought maybe you had been kidnapped or one of the Dementors had gotten you. Where did you go?"

It sounded as though Neville had been waiting to ask this for a while. "I went to see her," Harry answered, truthfully. "I went to talk to the Oracle again."

A hush fell over the crowd outside. "What did she say?" Luna whispered as quietly as possible. It actually managed to come out sounding louder than her normal talking voice, which made Harry smirk unconsciously.

"It's okay," he assured her, nodding to the doors. "I never got a chance to see her. The Four Seasons has been boarded up completely."

"The Oracle must have skipped town when the Inferi showed up."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so. It looked like she had been gone for several days. Maybe I'm wrong, but I think she left Hogsmeade before the Inferi or Dementors ever came."

"If that's the case, then," Ginny said, thoughtfully. "Then maybe she knew ahead of time. But, why didn't she warn the rest of the town, then?"

"Good question," Neville added. "I'm starting to wonder if there's not something funny going on with that place. I mean, it showing up right when the Three Broomsticks closes, and the fact she seemed so interested in you, Harry. All of it seems like too big of a coincidence to me."

"Everyone is interested in Harry," Luna pointed out, looking through the windows outside.

"Well, true."

"More people are asking to join the D.A. now," Ginny spoke up, after a moment's lull. "Professor Darkholme told me she was considering having the age restriction pushed back to allow for more members. Dumbledore's already said he will approve it if she makes a formal request. I guess the Hogsmeade attack has really put people on edge."

"Yeah," Harry admitted. "I guess it's not so strange that so many people wanted to leave. No one really feels safe at Hogwarts anymore."

No one could argue with that statement.

The rest of the train ride was spent with them trying to focus on happier topics of conversation. Naturally, the last Quidditch match managed to come up at least once every hour or so. To everyone's surprise, Ron had been sharing a great deal of the spotlight recently. No one could remember a time when Gryffindor's Keeper had played so well. Girls had been tailing him for once, as well, leaving Hermione to stew in her own venom as they blatantly ignored her in favor of drawing his attention. Ron seemed to handle all of this with his usual flare. Before they had boarded the train, Hermione made it a point to drop her trunk on his toe twice after one seventh year girl handed him a pink, scented envelope with bright red hearts all over it. Inside had been her address, as well as which room the mail was to be delivered in.

Ron had torn the letter up in front of Hermione to prove his loyalty, yet Harry caught a glimpse of him scooping up the bits and pieces into his pocket before they could blow away after Hermione turned around. Apparently, he wasn't the only one to have seen, either. When Ron and Hermione finally joined them sometime that afternoon, Ginny was being deliberately cold towards Ron. Harry had the feeling she was going to blow the whistle on them once they reached the Burrow. Hermione was staying with them at the Weasleys. Her parents had decided to go abroad at her suggestion, just to be safe. It was shaping up to be a wonderful holiday, provided of course, those two could remain on good terms the whole time. Harry had a sneaky suspicion that wasn't in the cards.

Mrs. Weasley was waiting for them at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. She looked rather grim, and nearly jumped the gap between the platform at the train in her rush to get to them. For once, she wasn't the only one, though. Harry noticed quite a few parents seemed relieved. Draco Malfoy was nowhere to be seen among them, but Harry thought he saw Narcissa in the crowd for a split second. Mrs. Weasley move in the way for a moment, and when Harry looked again, she had vanished.

"Oh, everyone!" Molly Weasley bemoaned, nearly on the verge of tears. "I was so worried something might go wrong, after what Arthur told me."

"We're fine, Mum," Ginny insisted, pulling herself out of Molly's vice-like hug. "Nothing happened on the way here."

"Really? That's good. Oh, and Harry dear. I was so..."

Harry's ears were muffled as Molly swooped him up in a suffocating embrace. "It's so good to see all of you," she moaned, her voice sounding to Harry like he was underwater.

"Come!" she said, hurriedly. "Let's get out of here."

They all followed Mrs. Weasley through the hidden barrier into King's Cross, which again required a password in order to move through. This time, thankfully, Mrs. Weasley knew what it was. Each one of them said 'Frockpawn' loud and clear before ducking one after the other through the solid wall. Ron was the last one to make it through, taking longer than the others. He held back, and both Ginny and Hermione did the same.

"I've got something to tell you," Ron whispered softly so his Mum wouldn't notice. "Ginny, bug off for a sec, will you?"

"She can stay," Harry told him, defending her quickly. "What did you want?"

Hermione gave him a knowing look, while Ron stared between the two of them, looking thunder-struck. "Right. I spotted Malfoy before I came through the barrier. His Mum was with him, along with this other bloke. I could swear I've seen him somewhere before. Anyway, Malfoy had to show him his arm, then the fellow passed a box on to him. It was sparkling, too, like someone had made it out of diamonds."

"What did Malfoy do with it?" Harry asked, lowering his head as they came to the exit.

"Pocketed it, and passed on what looked like a bunch of old coins. I think he saw me watching him. That's why it took me so long to come through the barrier."

"Someone needs to write to McGonagal," Hermione said, searching between them as Mrs. Weasley flagged a Muggle cab. "And Professor Dumbledore."

"You do it, then," Harry told her. "There may not be anything either of them can do, though. We're not at Hogwarts anymore."

"What a time for the Oracle to have disappeared," Ginny added, gravely.

"Oracle?" Ron looked at her, puzzled. "Since when do you go for that twaddle, Ginny?"

"It's not twaddle," she insisted, as Molly Weasley waved them towards the cab. "I've see her. She's the real thing, not like Trelawney."

They couldn't talk in front of the cab drivers, who kept eyeing their baggage with wary expressions. Harry thought Mrs. Weasley would need help dealing with Muggle money the way Arthur always had, but she calmly handed over several notes to each of them, and told them which way to go. When they had all piled in, Harry and Hermione in with Mrs. Weasley, she leaned in to him and whispered.

"I owled Tonk's father and asked for help in getting money transfered over at Gringotts," she admitted, sheepishly. "He's such a dear, even went so far as to help show me which was which. Don't tell Arthur, though. He was so convinced quid outweighed a pound; it was so sweet."

Hermione couldn't keep from laughing. "We were worried the Ministry would get here before I could," she added wearily after a moment. "Arthur got a tip from Kingsley Shacklebolt, who heard from one of his Auror friends, that Scrimgeour was planning to send people out here for you, Harry."

"To take me away?" he asked, calmly.

"We're not sure, really. It certainly seemed that way. Arthur thought taking a Muggle cab would be the safest route, albeit if a bit slow. I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary while I was waiting on you, though, so perhaps they decided otherwise."

"Either that," Hermione added, nervously. "Or they were sent to watch you."

Harry's mouth set into a grim line. "Maybe. Either way, it doesn't matter for the moment. Let's just..."

A lump formed at his throat. "Go home?" Molly finished, knowingly.

"Right."

The ride was uneventful. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, though that didn't prevent Harry from watching out the windows every few minutes to make sure they weren't being followed. It was ridiculous, of course. If the Ministry were trailing along behind them, they would undoubtedly have found some means to do so without being seen. Certainly, normal magic would not be enough to locate them. And besides, it was a foolish notion. Arthur Weasley worked for the Ministry, and they'd already proven more than happy to invade the Burrow whenever the Minister deemed necessary. Harry felt uncomfortable. The cab was terribly cramped with the three of them sitting alongside one another. It was a relief when at last they pulled up the bumpy road, the misshapen Burrow straight ahead.

Both drivers helped them get their trunks out, then zoomed off back the way they'd come, leaving a cloud of smoke behind them that made Ron cough and several chickens run for cover. All of them gathered up their stuff and headed for the front doors. The last vestiges of sunlight faded away as Harry closed the door behind him, taking deep breath as tension melted out of him.

For the rest of the night, they sat around and talked about everything from Quidditch to what Voldemort might be doing at that very moment. Mrs. Weasley fed them well, pulling out all the stops at dinner time by loading up the kitchen table with every choice of food imaginable. Fred and George stopped in just before she called them to the table. Not long afterwards, Bill and Fleur came in from work, alongside Charley. Everyone seemed thrilled to see him there, and Harry noticed when Bill shook hands with him that his arm never left Fleur's shoulder. That had been the only time his heart seemed to sag. When Arthur Weasley came stumbling in much later after they'd all stuffed themselves, he gave Harry a warm pat on the back before gently placing a chaste kiss on Molly's forehead.

Again, Harry took Fred and George's room. Molly insisted the twins stay for the night, but the talked her out of it by promising to send word through the fireplace when they arrived. Everyone was tired, none the least of which himself, as they stumbled up the flight of stairs to their rooms. The last one to say goodnight to him was Ginny, who paused for a moment at her door as if to add something. When Harry turned around, however, she was closing the door behind her.

The strength to change out of his clothes was barely in him. Before his head hit the pillow, Harry was fast asleep.

That's when the dreams began.

*****

Hogsmeade was burning. The smell of smoke and burnt wood, along with fouler things that sent his stomach churning, filled Harry's nose to the point where he thought he would choke. His lungs were burning with each breath he took in. The whole commune of Hogsmeade resembled something out of a madman's depiction of hell. He had lost Hermione and Ron the moment the attack started. That first explosion had sent everyone in the area running for cover, and in the scattering of people, Harry lost sight of them.

At the moment, his first and foremost concern was to find the others and get back to school. Neville and Luna had been with them, as well, along with Ginny. The six of them had planned to take a trip to Honeydukes before heading back up to Hogwarts. It was just too cold to be out for much longer, and then the Death Eaters had shown up. Eight or so of them had Apparated out of nowhere in the center of the street, amid throngs of shoppers that had braved the current crisis for the sake of the holidays. Harry's scar had burned for the first time in months, and he had automatically turned to the spot where they came in from, as though guided there. The moment the pain began, it vanished. That was all it had taken, however.

The first thing they'd done was set fire to the buildings. Now, the whole area burned like a raging inferno. Sounds of people screaming came through the blanket of smoke. It was hard to tell which way to go, but Harry took a gamble and charged off to his left. His body collided with something almost immediately. As he fell, Harry brought his wand up to take aim at whoever he'd hit. The dim outline of a shaking hand appeared, followed by Ron's sweating face, which it lit up.

"Harry!" he cried, seizing his free hand in a tight grip. "Come on! The others are this way."

Harry kept a tight hold on Ron's shoulder as his friend led him through the chaos. Soon, they came upon the others, taking cover behind the fallout of an old building. With a jolt, Harry recognized the criss-crossing broomsticks that had been the sign above Madame Rosmerta's pub. Hermione pulled Harry into a hug the moment he got close enough, followed quickly by Ginny. Luna gave his hand a firm squeeze for a second, then let go.

"Harry," Hermione sobbed. "We were afraid that..."

"Me too," he admitted. "Does anybody know where the others are?"

"No," Neville admitted. "None of us could find any of the others that came down with us. They must have gotten lost in the confusion."

Harry had a feeling Neville was just saying that for everyone else's benefit. "Right," he nodded, hoping he was wrong. "Listen, I have to get you all back up to the castle."

"What for?" Ginny wondered. "We're not leaving without you."

"Harry, we're in the D.A., too," Neville reminded him. "It's what we were all training for. You taught us how to fight."

"I thought I had last time, and Sirius died because of it."

"It's always going to be like that, Harry," Ginny told him, giving his arm a squeeze. "People are always going to die until one of us finishes it. Voldemort knows that, so why don't you?"

"We're all here because we chose to be here," Neville piped up, determinedly. There wasn't a trace of fear in his eyes. "What happens afterwards isn't important. It's why we're here that matters."

Something clenched in his chest, but at the same time, Harry felt like a curtain had parted in his head. For a brief instant, he was back inside the Four Seasons, and the Oracle was sitting in front of him.

_"It's not the How you must master. It's the Why!"_

"Okay," he nodded. "Someone needs to run up to the castle and send word. Let them know what's happening, then bring back as many of the D.A. as you can. I won't ask for volunteers..."

Everyone's hand immediately shot up, save for Ron's. "What?" he demanded, when they all turned to glare. "Fine. I'll do it."

"Hurry back," Harry ordered him. "The rest of you, follow me."

"Harry," Hermione said, softly. "Hasn't it gotten quiet all of a sudden?"

Everyone froze, and Harry listened in closely. Sure enough, the whole town felt quiet now. The sound of buildings burning and wood crackling still filled the air, but there was no more screaming. The sounds of children sobbing had slackened off. An eerie chill filled the air that had nothing to do with cold. Suddenly, Harry knew what was coming.

"Patronuses!" he commanded, holding his wand up. "Everyone! Dementors are coming. Ron, what the hell are you still doing here!?"

"Right!" he nodded, skipping off.

"Get yours out, too!" Harry called out after him. "They'll be coming your way as well, probably."

There was a flash of silver light as Ron conjoured up his Patronus and charged through the smoke. He and the others followed suite, and the air was suddenly filled with silvery animals. Harry's stag took point as they formed a barrien around him. The mysterious, over-sized dog was once again absent. Only Hermione's flickered for a moment as the cold decended around them, signifying that the Dementors had arrived.

"Forget it!" he told her. "Get in the middle and watch for Death Eaters. They're still waiting out there somewhere."

Hermione shuddered and nodded as the black hooded figures began circling around them. When one came close, a Patronus would drive it away. The circle kept them out, but now they were unavoidably trapped. Harry's scar twinged again, then faded. Looking off in the distance, he felt a lump form in his throat.

"Keep your guard up," he told them, softly. "Something else is coming. I don't know what it is, but they're controlling it."

"How do you know?" Ginny asked.

"I can feel it."

"He's right," Luna said, pointing her wand to the south. "That way."

Figures lumbered through the smoke, slowly at first. More joined their numbers, until a small army was marching their way. At first, Harry thought perhaps an army of Death Eaters had come, but as he watched from around the collapsed roof that served as their shield, something felt wrong. The way they moved was different. Also, he didn't see any of the cloaks or masks that Death Eaters wore. What more, if there were really that many of Voldemort's followers, at least some of them would have fired a spell off at Harry. Then the smoke parted enough to show one's face, and Harry nearly threw up.

They were corpses. All of them!

"Inferi!" he warned the others, getting back down. "We've got to get out of here!"

"They won't leave," Hermione said, looking around. "The Patronus are keeping them out, but we can't step outside of the circle."

"There's got to be a way," Neville insisted.

"Inferi are supposed to be weak against fire, Harry."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Hermione, get a fire going. Summon as many bottles out of the wreckage that you can, and start storing fires inside of them. We'll need as many as you can make."

"Got it," she nodded. _"Accio bottles!"_

"I saw Dudley's gang make something like this once," he told them. "If we're lucky, magic works the same way. When the bottles break, the fire should spread quickly. Since Inferi burn so fast, that should keep them back."

As it turned out, there were several unbroken bottles lying around them. Some had to fly around the swooping Dementors, which only made them come closer. Thankfully, the shield held them back. Harry hadn't begun to feel weak yet, but the others were getting tired. Ginny kept her face set in a determined, grim stare, but he knew they all couldn't keep this up forever.

"That's the lot," Hermione declared, proudly. "Everybody, take one."

"We can't let the shield down," Neville cried, keeping his wand up.

"Harry, they're on their way," Luna warned.

Harry could hear them, now. Their steps had grown quickly, and it sounded like the shambling Inferi were stumbling over the debris as fast as they could. Any second now, they were going to be overrun. Ron still hadn't made it back yet, and even with as many bottles as she had, there was no way Hermione could send enough of them to make the Inferi turn away. That only left one option.

They could either drop the shield and let the Dementors swoop down on them, or keep it raised and wait for the Inferi to arrive.

Sweat poured down Harry's brow as he struggled to come up with a plan. He had lead themselves get boxed in, but there had to be some way out of here. As though they sensed what was going on in his mind, the Dementors began to swoop in and throw themselves against the shield right above where Harry stood. Each time one of the cloaked bodies connected with it, it felt like someone hammered a nail through his skull. The despair was creeping through, inching it's way into his heart. With his mind stretched this way, his own Patronus wouldn't last much longer.

Several gathered expectantly over him, looking down through their darkened hoods at him. Harry could feel their eyes on him, even though Dementors were said to be blind. His arm began to shake, which in turn caused his Patronus to flicker in and out of existence for an instant.

"Harry..." Ginny warned.

His pocket grew hot. Harry could feel the green stone glowing between the fabric of his cloak. It burned all the way up his body and into his arm. The power there flared out, and as one of the Dementors drew itself closer to him, almost face to face, Harry shouted in a loud voice.

_"Expecto Patronum!"_

A gigantic silver dog exploded out from the tip of his wand. At the same time, the silver stag Patronus he had conjoured earlier glowed brighter, and broke formation with the others. Instead of falling, the shield closed in on itself, shrinking slightly, but still holding. Together, the dog and stag began racing in circles around them, driving the Dementors away. Everyone looked up in shock as his two Patronuses flew overhead into the sky, clearing the air. The shield fell automatically to allow them back in once every last Dementor had been driven away. Both fell to the ground in front of Harry. First, the stag lowered it's antlered head in a low bow, nearly touching the ground. The dog then turned over onto it's back, exposing it's belly as if wanting Harry to scratch it. He almost did, but then the sound of the Inferi snapped him out of it. All of their Patronuses were gone in a flash.

"Harry, the Inferi!" Hermione cried, tossing a bottle of bright blue flame at him. Harry caught it, and steeled himself. Everyone armed themselves and waited.

They didn't have to wait long.

The Inferi swarmed over the debris all at once. On Harry's word, they launched the bottles one after the other at the walking corpses. He shouted when the first one smashed against a dead woman's head, causing the blue flames to explode with force and cover her nearly from head to toe. The others had more or less the same effect. Now burning, the enflamed Inferi flailed about in a panic. Most of them were so close together that they set more on fire. Some of the exploding bottles erupted with enough force that it set several ablaze at once.

"It's working!" he cried, as the Inferi began to fall back.

"Harry!" Neville shouted. "I think someone's coming. It looks like it might be..."

Neville's voice trailed off, and as Harry turned, he quickly saw why. More Inferi were coming down from the path that lead up to Hogwarts. While they had been fighting, the ones farther back had broken off and surrounded them. Harry raised his wand and cast _Incendio_, letting a stream of flame burn the ground in front of them. The others followed suit, but this time, the Inferi kept coming.

"We're almost out of bottles," Hermione warned.

"Everyone, fall back on my command."

"What if there are more waiting for us on the other side, though?"

Hermione looked ready to panic. "Keep it together!" he told her. "We'll deal with that when the time comes. For now, I need you to focus."

By the look on her face, she was obviously thinking about Ron. Harry couldn't blame her, but he needed Hermione to think clearly like she usually did. Hermione was always the one to come up with a plan, and he needed to count on that in case this didn't work out well. Ginny solved the problem, however, by reaching over and slapping her across the face.

"Get it together!" she snapped. "Ron's too stupid to die that way. I've known him a lot longer than you have, and I know he's made it through okay."

Harry's jaw dropped, in spite of the situation, but it seemed to work nonetheless. Hermione shook her head, touched a cheek tenderly to the side of her face, then nodded.

"Harry!" Neville and Luna both yelled at the same time.

Harry looked up to see what they were aiming their wands towards, and gulped. A streak of purple flame was zooming in an arch towards the exact spot where they were standing in from behind the mass of Inferi before them.

"Run!" Harry screamed. "Scatter!"

They had barely taken two steps before it struck the ground where Hermione and Ginny had been standing. An explosion carried Harry far through the air. His ears rang from the noise of the blast, but the momentum flipping him through the air was far worse. When he finally landed, he tucked himself into a ball and let his weight roll him to a complete stop, which came much sooner than expected. His back struck something very solid, sending pain all along his body. Slowly, Harry pulled himself to his feet and looked around. He was quite a bit of distance from where they'd been. Amazingly, nothing had broken, but now he had to get back to the others.

Looking down at what he'd hit, Harry gulped as he saw the bodies of several small children, laying on top of one another in a pile as though they'd fallen that way. Each of their eyes were wide open and empty, signifying that they'd each been struck down by the Killing Curse. The Death Eaters had been through here already. That was why none of them had been attacked by spell fire. Voldemort's followers had swept through the town, then left whatever survived for the Dementors and Inferi to play with.

_**"VOLDEMORT!"**_

His voice rang loudly through the air. The clouds above seemed to shift and twist for a moment, forming a chunnel. Out of it swooped a single dark figure in a hood. Harry watched as it landed several feet away from where he stood, brandishing a wand.

"You should exercise more caution when you use the Dark Lord's name," the Death Eater told him, sneering. "You never know who might hear it."

"I was counting on it," Harry told him, standing straight up. "Do you know who I am?"

The Death Eater snorted. "Does it matter?"

Harry pushed the hair that had fallen down on his forehead to the side slightly, revealing his scar. The Death Eater stepped back slightly, but then regained his composure. "Fate seems to have smiled upon me, whelp. I was there when the Dark Lord had you cornered in the cemetary not so very long ago."

"Then you remember what I did to him."

"Fool! Ignorant fledgling! I am one of the Dark Lord's most loyal servants. Do you think I would be frightened by some child's pathetic trick?"

"Why don't you step forward and find out?"

The Death Eater raised his wand. Harry bowed slightly, keeping his eyes fixed on his opponent the whole time. The Death Eater did not return the gesture, but instead sent a blast of green at his head. The spell missed by a hair's breath, brushing past his ear as it missed.

"You missed," Harry said, raising his wand. "_Flayrictus Expelli_!"

Harry didn't know what the spell was. He had found it in the Marauder's Manua, but there hadn't been anything describing what it did other than the words, 'Enemies Beware!' scribbled hastily beside it. The blast struck the Death Eater squarely on the chest. There was about a second where his body seemed to freeze in mid-motion. Smoke then curled up out of him. And then...

His skin, along with robes and all, ripped right off his body.

Harry stood in shock for a moment, watching as the mass of red tissue and blood wavered slightly, then fell to the ground. His wand clattered to the ground and rolled towards him at the same time, stopping inches from his feet. Harry bent over, felt bile rising up from his stomach, and puked out his breakfast all over his shoes.

Harry didn't realize he'd fallen to his knees until he raised up again. The wand was still lying there, and without thinking, he reached over to pick it up. He then weakly jogged over to what remained of the Death Eater's body, hoping against hope there was some way to save him. When he got there, it was no question that he was too late. Every last bit of skin was completely gone. Muscle and bone lay exposed to air, along with the organs. It wasn't breathing, and the heart buried underneath the rib cage was already still. Nothing could have survived that.

What had he just done?

Harry's breathing became erratic. He searched the area desperately, hoping to spot a familiar face. There had to be someone that could help him.

"_Ennervate_!" he cried, pointing his wand at the corpse. All this served was to make it jump once, as if he had kicked it.

"_Ennervate! Ennervate_!"

Nothing.

There had to be someone. The answer came to him as though it were obvious. Breaking into a run, Harry dashed down the street, leaping over stray bodies that had been left carelessly by the Death Eaters' rampage. Coming up on the edge of Hogsmeade, he spotted the tall oak tree laying off to the side, and ran up to the door. Those same strange god statues were still there. The door in the center of the trunk, however, had boards nailed across it. No lights were on inside. He beat his hands against the door regardless, then peered in through a side window.

The place was dark on the inside. Everything had been put away. Chairs were set up on the tables as if it were the middle of the night, instead of just past noon. There wasn't a sign of life anywhere inside. Harry thought he saw a layer of dust coating an empty table next to where he looked in. The Oracle had been gone for at least several days.

But to where?

Remembering the others, Harry turned around and raced back into town. When he got to what little remained of the Three Broomsticks, the place was deserted. Not only were Ginny and the others gone, but so were all the Inferi. The only thing left was a large, smoldering crater where they had been standing before. Even the Dementors appeared to have gone. Looking around, Harry couldn't find any sign of them. This actually made him feel a little better. If the explosion had gotten them, there would still have been bodies left. And the blast would have most likely driven the Inferi away. That had to mean that the others were safe. Still, Harry couldn't make himself believe it just yet. Not until he saw them all.

Something shifted amind the rubble up ahead. Hastely, he ran forward and waved his wand to send the heavy shingles of roof flying. His first thought had been that one of the others, or even a total stranger, might have been buried underneath. Instead, a lone Inferi rose up out from underneath and lunged straight for him. Harry raised his wand, but the creature was too close to him. Knocking the wand away with a swing, it leaped forward and wrapped two slimey hands around his throat. Harry saw spots swimming over his vision for a second. He tried to pry the Inferi's smelling fingers from his throat, but the monster had too tight a grip.

The Inferi shoved him hard, and Harry fell backwards. Lying on the ground, he looked up as it leaned forward with it's mouth hanging open. Rotten teeth greeted him as the Inferi prepared to tear a piece of his own flesh off. Struggling, he found he couldn't get away.

Then, the monster burst into flames.

It automatically let go to flail about helplessly. The creature was wailing in pain as it slowly fell to the ground. Harry looked around for his savior, and saw a single person standing up atop the largest pile of rubble in the distance. The girl brandished a single wand, which sent out another burst of flames. The Inferi was caught up in them, and let loose one last scream of pain before exploding. Harry watched as the short, frumpy girl with stringy brown hair took one look at him, then turned at walked away.

"Wait!" Harry called out.

By the time he'd climbed over the pile of junk, she had gone. Back behind him, he heard someone calling his name.

"Harry, where are you?!"

He had just been rescued by Ginny's Hufflepuff friend, Mary Shoewitter.

As Ron would have said, 'Bloody hell!'


	16. Chapter 16 Gnawmarrow

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 16

_**Gnawmarrow**_

by Ri-kun

"I cannot believe how crowded it is!" Ginny huffed, as yet another wizard stomped on her foot in an attempt to rush past her.

"Me neither!" agreed Ron, who was having no better luck scouting through the mass of witches and wizards in Diagon Alley, despite his height. "You'd think, after what this place went through when the Death Eaters attacked, people would be afraid to set foot in it."

Harry didn't bother voicing his agreement. The roar of multiple voices mingling together into a noisy buzz made anything lower than a shout impossible to hear, and his voice had nearly given out already. It had been a long time since he'd seen Diagon Alley bustling with this much activity. It looked as though the entire Wizarding Community were stuffed inside the narrow street corner. Shops were filled to capacity with curious onlookers and desperate buyers, all fighting to get inside even the most benign-looking places. Shop keepers waged a losing battle to keep some semblance of order. Through a window, Harry watched in shock as a whole shelf fell over from the weight of eight grown witches fighting to grab what had been on the top. The crash, though loud enough to reach even his ears, did nothing to slow them down. Nor did it seem to strike anyone as out of the ordinary. People moved right on as best they could, as though this had all happened before.

Tonks was watching along with him, looking grim. "It's been like this for over a month now, nearly. At first, people avoided this place like it carried a plague. Then, the holidays started, and suddenly none of that mattered. Aurors are having as much trouble keeping order here as they are hunting down Voldemort. It's maddening!"

"What's wrong with everybody?" Ginny wondered, gazing around. "Don't they have better things to do?"

"It's because of the Death Eater attacks recently," Hermione told her. "First there was Diagon Alley, and now after what happened with Hogsmeade..."

"But, shouldn't that make people more afraid?"

Harry was thinking along the same lines. The Wizarding community seemed to be behaving the exact opposite of what they all were expecting. "I think this is everyone's way of fighting back," Hermione offered, looking around. "People are afraid, but they're also not letting that get to them. It's Christmas time, and they all want to celebrate being alive. So they're doing what they always do this time of year, and not letting Vol... Voldemort stop them."

"They're being foolish," Tonk responded, with a bitter look of disgust. "Everyone's taking a big risk being out like this in one place. It's a perfect time for Voldemort's Death Eaters to strike."

Harry was surprised at her reaction, though he didn't entirely agree with her. On the one hand, it was certainly dangerous. Molly Weasley had all but forbidden them to leave the Burrow at first. Harry had wanted to see what the second letter from Sirius had been about. The only thing on it were a list of names, followed by a long series of numbers that went on for a good bit. None of it made any sense to him, and even Herimone could only guess at what he was supposed to do. His only choice was to head to Gringotts and speak with the goblin who's name had been at the top of the parchment, a Mr. Gnawmarrow on the second floor in office number 1121.

This was easier said than done, however. Mrs. Weasley had refused at first, even despite Harry's insistence that it was important. Her response had been that nothing was more important that keeping him safe, even when Arthur Weasley seemed to have taken his side on the matter. It had been one of the few times that Arthur had actually spoken while Harry was in the same room. Lately, he had taken to avoiding him whenever possible. Harry recalled before he'd left on the train for Hogwarts Mr. Weasley wanting to talk with him about something. Whatever that had been, it was apparent he had changed his mind. Mrs. Weasley had still insisted that he stay home and send Hedwig to Gringotts instead. Finally, Arthur wore her down by asking Tonks if she would go with them.

Tonks had been spending a great deal of time at the Burrow between her shifts at the Ministry, and doing work with the Order. Usually, she could be found in the kitchen drinking tea with Mrs. Weasley, who had made it her personal mission to try and cheer her up. Tonks was looking even worse that before these days. The holidays were apparently dragging her down. Now, her Metamorphmagus abilities were really starting to suffer. Her hair had changed to an ugly shade of grey, and it looked like she had put on several pounds. Now, as they shuffled slowly through the crowd down towards Gringotts, Harry noticed she was shifting her feet uncomfortably, as though limping slightly.

It took them a half-hour to make it to the steps of the wizarding bank. Gringotts appeared to have even more security measures in place than before. The attack on Diagon Alley over the summer had apparently alerted the goblins to the threat of Voldemort at last. They each spent a good ten minutes each standing perfectly still as goblins waved all manner of Dark Detectors back and forth over their bodies. Unlike Filch, none of them attempted to prod the long devices anywhere near their bodies, but it was unsettling nonetheless. Ginny was glaring at one as though daring it to come closer. It was a relief for everyone when they were finally allowed through.

Harry approached the Head Goblin's desk and waited patiently. He recalled the first time he had been brought here with Hagrid, when the Head Goblin had been polishing a set of enormous red rubies. This time, it was emerald jems, and they were much smaller, though no less impressive-looking. The goblin caught sight of Harry and set one down, expectantly.

"Hello," Harry nodded, politely. "I was hoping I could speak with a Mr. Gnawmarrow, in..."

Harry paused, and drew out the letter. "Office Number 1121," he finished. "Is he available?"

"Do you have an appointment, Mr. Harry Potter?" the Head Goblin replied.

Harry didn't bother with wondering how the goblin knew his name. He'd gone through the trouble of doing his hair up in spikes before he left the Burrow. Hermione had pointed out at once that this would just make it easier for people to recognize him. He hadn't thought much of it, but then, he hadn't been expecting it to be so crowded.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I was sent this letter, asking me to come."

He held the letter out, which the Head Goblin snatched away at once. His eyes widened slightly at what he read there. Apparently, the numbers and names meant a great deal to him. After scanning it, he glanced down at Harry once, then gave the letter back.

"I'll have someone escort you there," he said. "Snapmare!"

A stocky, taller-than-average goblin hobbled over towards them. "You're entourage will have to wait down here," the Head Goblin informed him. "Snapmare, escort Mr. Potter up to see Gnawmarrow at once."

Harry waved goodbye to everyone, smiling slightly at Ron's miffed glare, and followed Snapmare through the expansive doors through the back. The dark corridor with flaming torches was still the same as he recalled. Snapmare was able to keep several steps ahead of him, despite the slight gait to his walk. Harry thought they would be taking one of the speeding carts, but Snapmare led him down a seperate hall. At the end of it was a long row of pearly marble stairs, leading upwards. Harry thought it would take them several minutes to climb, but the moment his feet touched them, the marble steps began to move on their own, just like an escalator at a London Underground station. He nearly tripped once when they came to a stop at the top, but managed to right himself and catch up with Snapmare, who had continued on in spite of him.

Snapmare led Harry through a maze-like set of cubicles, where goblins busied themselves by counting oddly-shaped coins, pounding parchments with heavy stampers, or sending letters to one another that had been folded into flying paper cranes. One struck Snapmare in the temple before flapping weakly off towards a female goblin two cubicles over. Snapmare let out a growl in the direction where it had come from, but then kept on going. Finally, they reached an office door at the end of a long hallway, down past the cubicle maze. The door was marked with the number 1121, and below that was the name Gnawmarrow emblazed in gold lettering. Snapmare rapped his knuckles on the heavy wooden panel, then stepped aside to allow Harry past.

"Enter," answered a thick, gravely voice.

Snapmare walked around Harry back down the narrow hall. Harry turned to thank him before opening the door, and missed the look of shock on Snapmare's face.

The interior of the office was very posh. Harry felt very out of place as he walked slowly up to who he assumed was Gnawmarrow sitting behind a massive desk, writing something out on a long stretch of parchment that rolled down off his desk into a puddle off to the side.

"Welcome, Mr. Potter," said Gnawmarrow, not looking up. "I've been expecting you for quite some time."

Not certain what he should do, Harry chose to stand there in front of the desk. Gnawmarrow glanced his way a second later, and gestured towards one of the two chairs on either side of him. Harry sat down then, and waited. Gnawmarrow then placed the quill he was writing with in an ink stand, and rolled the piece of parchment up. It spun rapidly in his fingers, filling out thicken than Harry's neck before he finally stopped.

"If I were to guess," Gnawmarrow said, dropping the parchment scroll into an open drawer with a loud thud. "You have no idea as to why you're here. Do you, Mr. Potter?"

"No sir," he admitted, honestly. "I only got the letter a few days ago. It told me I should come here. I was hoping you might tell me what this means."

Harry opened up the letter and passed it to him. Gnawmarrow took it from him, and scanned over the surface. "You must have received this from Sirius Black, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

Harry watched as he reviewed the list of names and numbers again, more slowly this time. "This is a composite list of properties and account information owned by the Potter and Black families. Most of these accounts were frozen years ago, prior to the fall of the one you would call Voldemort. I remember receiving a notice from Sirius Black about taking certain actions, should anything happen to him."

"I had heard Sirius Black had met his end before the summer," he added, looking up at Harry once more. "I take it this was true."

Harry nodded, and swallowed once. "What's this all about? I was told by a lawyer named Woodruff that Sirius had made me his sole heir."

"Oh, he did!" Gnawmarrow nodded, vigorously. "Most certainly. The thing is, Mr. Black wasn't sure you would receive word of the full extend of your inheritance. Reports show that you've made numerous withdrawls from your school fund over the summer. That is to be expected, but Mr. Black was worried you might not have been aware of the other accounts that were left in your name."

"My other accounts?" Harry wondered.

Gnawmarrow looked at him. "Mr. Potter, you come from a very old wizarding family. Did you honestly believe that was the only thing of value your parents had left to you."

"I... guess I hadn't thought about it much," Harry said, confused. "What are you trying to say?"

"Before your parents died, they took into consideration the possibility that they might not live to raise you. With that in mind, I took it upon myself to keep all properties and accounts pretaining to the Potter family name in order. That task has doubled thanks to the Black estate that was willed to you."

Gnawmarrow began digging through the drawers in his desk, searching for something. "I was a trusted confidant of your father's parents for years. Your father came to me when it became apparent that your life was in danger. I have the invoice here somewhere!"

Gnawmarrow climbed down from the oversized chair and strode over to a set of cabinets. Each one opened of it's own accord with a click of his fingers. Harry watched befuddled as Gnawmarrow grew more and more frustrated with each drawer he went through. Some held nothing but pieces of parchment, which he threw carelessly over his shoulder. Another held more folded letters that went flying out the moment the cabinet drawer cracked open. One actually belched fire for a few seconds, until Gnawmarrow clicked his fingers again, snapping it shut.

"Here it is!" he cried out at last.

Gnawmarrow pulled out a rather worn-looking letter from the very last drawer, and stumbled back over to Harry. "With the recent crisis in mind, plus the overall sales figures of the last two decades, the total sum of the estates together comes to a little over thirty-three million galleons."

Harry froze up. "What..." he whispered.

"Thirty-three million and two-hundred thirteen galleons, to be exact," Gnawmarrow told him. "Of course, that's only if you were to liquidate all properties at once. In terms of cold cash, the sum is much smaller, coming closer to twenty-one million galleons and a bit of change. Is everything alright, Mr. Potter?"

Harry felt himself go pale with shock. "Why didn't anyone tell me about this?"

"We assumed you had already been informed," Gnawmarrow replied, folding the parchment in half. "Your headmaster, an Albus Dumbledore, was to make sure you were at least aware of the situation. You wouldn't have had access to your entire estate until you came of age, but Mr. Black was quite insistent that you be told if anything ill came of him."

"Dumbledore knew," Harry said softly, more to himself. "Dumbledore knew all along..."

"Mr. Black was in the process of drawing up papers to have you emancipated," Gnawmarrow went on, heading back to his chair. "I'm afraid he died before the process was completed, however, and without his signature on those final papers, you'll still have to wait until your seventeeth birthday before coming into your full inheritence. Now that you've been informed, though, I can at least have papers drawn up giving you a full layout of what properties have been left in your name. Is there anything else you would like, sir?"

The question snapped Harry out of his trance. "Yes," he stated with conviction. "Can you close my school account, and have all the galleons transfered to me before I leave here?"

*****

Harry had put on quite a bit of weight when he finally walked back out into the main area. Fortunately, the money belt and extra satchels the goblins had given him with his gold in them weren't that noticeable, except perhaps to a well-trained eye. He thought perhaps Tonks would see the difference, but all she did when he caught sight of her was motion him over where the others were standing together. Harry wondered as they were searched again by the Dark Detectors if he wasn't the first wizard to make such a withdrawl recently. He thought it would have taken much longer, but Gnawmarrow was able to complete his request within the hour. With all the Death Eater attacks, it seemed he wasn't the only one taking matters into his own hands.

Diagon Alley was even busier than earlier now. Tonks looked around irritably for a moment at the masses of people for a way through, then turned back towards them. "Everybody keep close together," she insisted, taking Harry by the arm. "We don't want to get seperated in this. Come on!"

As they pushed through the crowd, Harry felt as though his body was being tenderized by a rather brutal Quidditch match. Every few steps, Tonk's grip on his arm came loose. All too soon, he found himself being pushed farther away from her. When the crowd finally cleared a little, he was standing off to the side not too far from Quality Quidditch Supplies by himself. The others were nowhere in sight. Harry considered waiting for them by the entrance, but it was still a good distance away from him, and it didn't look as though anyone was willing to let him through.

More annoyed than anything, Harry stood there a moment wondering what to do. Hedwig was back at the Burrow, but he really didn't want to owl anyone for help over something this trivial. The twins would surely laugh at him if they caught wind of that. Thinking of Fred and George gave Harry inspiration, however. Keeping to the outer edges of the crowd, Harry worked his way down to the other side where Weasley's Wizard Wheezes stood. The joke shop was as packed as ever. Fred and George could be seen inside, as well as a familiar bush of red hair. Harry squeezed through until he stood next to Hermione, who promptly grabbed him in a hug.

"Harry! We were so worried when... ouch!"

Hermione let go and pulled away slightly. "What have you got on under there?" she wondered. "It feels almost like..."

"Oi!" Ron called out angrily. "That'll be enough of that, mate."

"Oh, shut up, Ron. Something really terrible could have happened."

"Harry's fine," he said, a bit sulkily, then threw a possessive arm around her. "Where'd you get off to, mate? We lost track of you and Tonks both. Then Ginny suggested we come here and wait for you. Personally, I think she just wanted another look around, since Mum won't let her out of the house."

"You were the one who insisted," Hermione corrected him. "But I'm glad we found you, Harry. What happened to Tonks?"

"I don't know," he answered, worried himself. "I lost track of her. The only reason I came here is because it was the easiest place to get to. I thought Fred and George might have a fireplace I could get back to the Burrow with. I'd planned on getting word to you with Hedwig."

"She'll turn up sooner or later," Hermione said, though she didn't sound convinced. "We'll wait around here for a bit longer."

"Speaking of Tonks," Ginny spoke up, appearing behind him. "What do you make of how she's been acting?"

Ginny sounded worried, even with the armload of merchandise she'd plucked from the shelves. "There's no way Fred and George are going to let you have that for free," Ron warned her. "So you might as well put that back. And Tonks has gotten really weird lately, if you ask me."

"It's Sirius," Hermione added, then looked towards Harry. "I think she's still grieving."

"But they hardly knew one another," Ginny protested. "Oh, I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean..."

"It's okay," he assured her. "Besides, you're right, I think. It doesn't make a lot of sense. And it still wouldn't explain why she can't seem to shapeshift anymore."

"It would if she'd been in love with Sirius," Hermione offered, tenatively. "Emotional blows like that can affect a Metamorphmagus' power sometimes. I read about it."

No one said anything for a moment. "That would explain it," Ron said, reluctantly. "I guess."

"I don't think Tonks was in love with Sirius," Ginny said, looking from one to the next. "Because of Remus."

"What?" Ron asked her, confused. "You're saying that..."

"I think," and Ginny took a deep breath. "I think maybe... Remus was in love with Sirius."

Ron turned pale, and covered his eyes. "Ew! No, please! The mental image..."

"Oh, grow up, Ron!" Ginny snapped. "It's not impossible."

"Don't ever say things like that in front of me, Ginny," Ron moaned, even after Hermione smacked him. "And please don't say that to Mum's face. She'll thrown a fit at me for sure!"

It was something Harry wasn't sure he wanted to think about, either. Something had definitely happened to Tonks, and not perhaps due to being held captive at the Ministry. It made Harry feel slightly more at ease to know he might not be the cause. Fred and George, however, emerged from the back a second later, taking his mind off the unpleasant subject.

"Harry!" they both said, cheerfully. "We heard you were here. Come to check out the latest stock."

"We're waiting for Tonks," Hermione broke in. "We lost her in the crowd."

"That's no surprise," Fred said, nodding out the window. "People are going through our stock like mad. We've had to hire on extra help just to cope. Jennifer is such a dear, though, George and I are seriously considering letting her stay on."

George pointed to the register, where a pretty blonde witch was hurriedly ringing up items. "How has Tonks been?" Fred asked, suddenly. "Last time either of us saw her, she looked a bit ill. Mum says she's been over a lot recently."

"She has," Ron replied. "Almost every afternoon, in fact. Ginny thinks it's because she was jealous over Sirius and Professor Lupin buggering one other, or some such, and Hermione agrees with her!"

"I never said that, Ron!"

"Hmmm... it's not impossible," Fred nodded. "If course, I would have never thought Tonks to be the sort of girl who'd hold a grudge over something like that. "

"Listen to the two of you," Ron said, astonished. "You're making it sound like it's..."

"What?"

"Like it's... nothing!" he finished, weakly.

"Don't be so naive, Ron. Once you've left Hogwarts and seen a bit of the world, you're perspective will change. Remember that one girl that tried to pay us when we were drunk at that pub to kiss?"

"No!"

"Oh, right," George nodded. "Ron's never been to a proper pub before. It was Lee Jordon who was with us that time. And I think she wanted to see more than just us kissing."

The girls laughed along with them, which made Ron look sick to his stomach. "Anyway, Harry. While everyone's waiting on Tonks to show up, would you mind stepping into the back with us. George and I've got something to show you that we think you'll like."

Harry followed them to the back, with Ron close behind hoping to avoid anymore of the girls' snickering. He thought perhaps that the twins would tell him to leave, but they both ignored him and kept their attention on Harry. Harry saw they were in a newly designed back room connected to the front by a single door.

"It was you really that gave us this stroke of brilliance, Harry," George said.

"Right," Fred nodded. "I mean, we're all for fighting the good fight."

"Our Anti-Dark Devices are walking off the shelves, in fact," George picked up. "We've had to triple our efforts to fill all the Ministry's orders, and even take on an apprentice each to help with the extra work."

"It's been maddening," finished Fred. "Ludicrously satisfying..."

"But maddening. And that's when we realized..."

"We spent so much time on working, and not having enough fun. That's what people are about right now..."

"Not letting You-Know-Who get them down. Getting out and living life while you can..."

"Instead of letting fear get the better of you. So why shouldn't we cash in on it?"

"Of course," Harry nodded, trying to keep track. "But, what are you talking about?"

"Look around!" Fred proclaimed proudly. "See for yourself."

Harry did, and saw that Ron had been doing so during the whole conversation, and now was burning a shade of red to match his hair. It became clear to Harry then why this room was kept seperated from the rest of the shop. There were a number of bottles lining the shelves, with effects that made Harry's ears burn. And they were the most benign!

"Fred dated a Muggle-born back in our third year who told him about these," said George, tossing a small box at him. "We thought of coming up with our own version of it. Seems like they'll be real popular with sixth and seventh years. Do us a favor and spread the word around when you get back, okay?"

"'Excaliber,'" Harry read, squinting. "'Sheath for the Enchanted Sword...'"

"Those are the regular brand. We came up with some that have Engorgement and Shrinking spells on them. This too," Fred added, showing him a small red bottle shaped like a teardrop. "'Weasley's Exotic Oil.' It changes scent every thirty seconds or so, sort of like an Every-Flavor Bean for your nose. We've got the usual perfume scents like cinnamon, red roses, and night-blooming jasmine, but there's also pine fresh and something we found, called a New Car Smell."

"Something else we picked up from the Muggle world," George added. "Dad was right. Muggles can come up with all sorts of interesting things without magic."

"There's also something Jennifer gave us an idea for. It's a set of potions that create attraction or revulsion based on the color your using. Red potions allow for the strongest attraction, while the black one drives a person away. Great for dates, if you're looking to speed things along, or get out of a really bad situation."

"It's brilliant," Harry told them, trying not to laugh. "I can't believe you did all this, though."

"Mum's going to pitch a fit," Ron grumbled. "When she sees all this, just you wait!"

"Let her," Fred replied, calmly.

"We're not babies anymore, Ron. You've got to grow up sometimes."

"If all this goes well, we might consider doing a whole line of the stuff, complete with an entirely new franchise. That way, it'll keep the parents happy."

"What's this thing for?" Ron asked, holding up an oddly-shaped box.

"Self-inflating Dream Girl," Fred answered at once. "Charmed to where it can look like any famous witch you want. Just point the wand at it and think hard on what they look like. The spell does the rest. It won't last longer than an hour, though."

Ron was intrigued. "How much?"

"You couldn't afford it," said George, snatching it from his hands. "And besides, you're not of age yet."

"Two more months!" Ron moaned. "That's all!"

"Not until March 1st," Fred answered, loftily, doing a fair impression of Mrs. Weasley. "And not while you're in school. Imagine what Mum would think!"

"You can have a box of the Engorgement Charm Excalibers, though, if you'd like," George broke in between snickers. "Since you're dating Hermione and all. Merlin knows she'll appreciate it. Mind you, we never did get around to labeling them individually, so there's no way of telling which one you get!"

"Feel free to have at a box of Excalibers, though," Fred told Harry. "Those in your hand are the extra-large. George and I have already seen the show, so no need to ask whether or not they'll fit!"

The twins didn't bother trying to conceal their laughter as they emerged with Ron and Harry in tow from the back room. Ron was giving his older brothers a scowl that they should've been able to feel all the way through their expensive robes, yet Harry saw him pocket the small box before Hermione saw.

"What are you going on about?" Ginny asked them.

"Nothing!" said Harry and Ron at the same time.

"Harry!"

Harry turned around and spotted Neville Longbottom standing near the window, waving. "I told my gran that I was going to say hi to Fred and George," he gasped, after fighting his way over to them. "But I was hoping to find you here. Someone was looking for you outside."

"Who?"

"A woman," he said, then blushed. "I mean, she said that she'd come here with you, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. She was one of the Aurors they sent to help guard Hogwarts."

"Tonks," said Harry, nodded. "Any idea which way she went?"

"Last time I saw her, she was near Florish and Blots, and it looked like she had been crying. Before that, though, I think I may have seen her ealier having an argument with Professor Lupin."

Harry looked back to the others. "When?"

Neville hesitated for only a second. "A few minutes ago. Not long, really. Why, has something happened?"

Neville sounded excited now, and Harry was sure he was feeling for his wand inside his cloak pocket. "Nothing's wrong, Neville," he assured him, smiling at the slight frown on his friend's face. "We were just looking for her, is all. Speaking of which, we ought to be going."

"Before you go," George said. "We've got something of a care package for you, Harry."

"It's full of the... stuff we talked about before," Fred finished, eyeing Ginny and Hermione carefully. "Think of it as free samples to pass around when you get back to Hogwarts."

"You're kidding, right?" Ron demanded, incredulously.

"Not at all," Fred replied, smugly. "Word of mouth is the best way to get people interested. It's what helped get us here, after all."

"See you, Neville. Got to get back to work. Jennifer looks long overdue for a break."

Harry said goodbye to the twins, and walked out with the others in tow. Ginny kept darting her eyes over to the box curled up under his arm, clearly intrigued by it. Ron kept trying to get between them, which only served to cause more problems as they fought their way back towards where Tonks had been. Neville had called it right. She was waiting for them on a bench next to the bookstore, and indeed it appeared as though she were still upset about something. Tonks wiped her eyes once when she caught sight of them, and stood up.

"I was afraid I might have to bring the whole Order down here to look for you," she said, wearily.

"Sorry," he replied, sincerely. "We all met up with each other at Fred and George's place."

"I was on my way there," she said. "When I got caught up by... someone. Anyway, we should be going. Molly Weasley's going to hex me if I let you stay out any longer. What's that you've got there, Harry?"

"Something Fred and George gave him," Ginny answered for him. "Of which Harry and Ron are both being extremely cryptic about."

"Let's get on, then." Tonks was checking the crowd as she spoke, almost apprehensively. Harry thought she might have been looking for signs of trouble, but something told him she was really scanning for signs of someone else. As she led them back out through the secret archway into the space behind the Leaky Cauldron, Harry thought he spotted Professor Lupin watching them leave. When he spotted to get a proper glance, however, the former Defense teacher was gone.

*****

It was getting late when they all made it back. Tonks neglected to stick around for tea, but Professor Lupin did show up in time for supper. Harry had been hoping to get a moment alone with him over the holidays. He had questions that Remus would likely be able to answer.

Remus Lupin looked as thin and gaunt as ever. Nor did he appear to be in any better spirits than Tonks was. Molly made sure to fill his plate as many times as she did Harry's, which unfortunately didn't afford them much room to talk. It was just as well, however, since he wanted their conversation to be in private. Lupin filled them all in between bites on what he'd been doing for the Order. This, in turn, caused Molly to begin aiming her wand at pots and pans all over the kitchen, sending them crashing into one another. The noise became such that everyone finally retired to the living room. Even then, Molly continued to make noise as she scrubbed the dishes and repaired them over and over again.

"I've been trying to get in with a local werewolf pack," he explained to them, over what sounded like several bowls breaking at once. "There's a bunch out near South Hams, a mix of wizards and Muggle-borns who were all bitten. Seems they've taken to using Wolfsbane Potion to hold back the transformation's effects, the same way I did at Hogwarts. I'm actually growing to like it there."

"Are you spying on them?" Ron asked, interested.

"Hardly," Lupin told them, and for the first time, smiled slightly. "Dumbledore sent me there to recruit them. Seems they have no interest in spreading their disease to others. They use the Wolfsbane Potion to ensure no one else is turned. Most werewolves immerse themselves in their transformations after a while, but this group has actually set up a community together. They co-exist quite nicely, if a bit simply."

"Why does Dumbledore want werewolves in the Order?" Harry asked.

Lupin met his gaze. "Some of the werewolves are taking sides with Voldemort, Harry. He's promised them full rights if they serve as a private army of sorts. All lies, naturally, since Voldemort hates werewolves as much as he despises Muggle-borns or anything else not of pure wizard blood. A lot of the larger groups are biding their time, though. They want to see what happens before making any rash decisions. I think Voldemort's reputation is beginning to speak for itself with them. They're waiting to see who's going to come out on top."

Remus blinked, then glanced away from him. "Your name has come up, of course, Harry. It seems the werewolves heard rumors of your involvement with the vampire community. Not surprising, really, since the two never really got along that well. They seem to consider you quite the hero these days. A few of the stories that came up sound ridiculous, of course."

Lupin was wanting to know what had really happened the night Harry fought off Yuzuho, the vampire queen, and mother to Rayne. Harry had an idea as to what those stories might have been about. Lupin was wondering if Harry really had defeated Yuzuho on his own. Lupin apparently didn't believe it. Harry met his eyes again, and spoke in as quiet a voice as Molly's dish drying would allow.

"Why does Dumbledore not want you back at Hogwarts, then?"

Lupin looked away first. "That's Dumbledore's personal business."

"I'd think, after everything you've been willing to do for the Order, getting your old job back wouldn't be that big of a deal."

"It's not as simple as that."

"Then explain it to me," Harry insisted. "Or, better yet, just ask me yourself, instead of dancing around the question."

Lupin glared. "Ask me, if you really want to know. Ask me what happened to Yuzuho."

Lupin's eyes fixed on Harry's scar for a moment. Harry sat there impatiently, but Remus didn't say a word. The Burrow had gone quiet, something practically unheard of. Harry realized that they couldn't even hear Molly banging around, trying to cloud their talk under the pretext of scrubbing the kitchen down anymore. Lupin was watching Harry now, as if he were seeing him in an entirely new light. Harry could remember seeing that same look on his face before. With a jolt, he realized that Sirius hadn't been the only one who had seen his father in him. All this time, Lupin had been looking for signs of James whenever he glanced Harry's way. Now, at last, as he saw through the bitterness clouding his old Professor's kind features, Harry understood what was wrong between them.

Lupin stood up, and stroke out the front door without another word. They all watched him go with astonished expressions, all except for Harry, who merely stood there and waited in his chair. Waiting for when Lupin came back, knowing he still had the answers to Lupin's questions.

Once again, the Oracle had been right.


	17. Chapter 17 Homework vs Quidditch

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 17

_**Homework vs. Quidditch**_

by Ri-kun

Lupin stayed gone for the rest of the week. Harry felt a bit down, and it wasn't until after their row that Harry remembered he'd been wanting to ask him about the Marauder's Manual. Without the distraction of school, he found himself thinking of the spell he'd used in Hogsmeade at weird moments. The memory of the Death Eater as it's flesh and robes both peeled away all in one swoop would crop up in his mind, leaving him feeling sick and a little dizzy. Hermione and Ginny both could tell something was wrong. He would catch himself staring at his hands, thinking about what he'd done. In the end, he'd broken down and told all of them the truth.

Ginny, of course, had been horrified. Harry had been expecting that, since she had warned him of using spells from strange books before. Hermione, of course, spent the next hour looking through the Manual herself, while Ron glanced suspiciously over her shoulder with his wand out, in case the book did anything strange to her, he insisted. In the end, however, she closed the book back up with a frustrated glare and turned to him.

"It's weird," she said, thoughtfully. "Most of the pages are just full of little tricks, or tips on how to make spells work better. There's nothing in there really to suggest it's dangerous, but..."

"But?" Harry asked, steeling himself.

"Well, some of the spells could be used in Dark Magic, but by themselves, they're still fairly harmless. Again, it looks like it was mostly scribbed down in a hurry for fun. Definitely something that Remus or Sirius would have come up with while they were in school."

Harry wasn't sure he liked Hermione's tone, but kept it to himself. "Why was that spell in there, though?"

"Good question. I'm thinking maybe it was invented for some other purpose. You said the only thing that was written by it was 'Enemies Beware', right?"

Harry nodded. "Maybe the Marauders meant it as a warning?" she offered. "It could have been their way of saying not to use it on people."

"Who thinks skinning people alive is funny?" Ron demanded, looking repulsed at the idea. "Harry killed someone with a spell from that thing. Mind you, it was a Death Eater, but still!"

"I could fire Reducto at your head, and it would end with the same result," Ginny told him, pointedly. "Sirius or one of the others probably created it as a way of skinning potion ingredients faster, then added that warning as an afterthought. It sounds like something they would do. The way he always talked, none of the Marauders really stopped to think about the consequences of what they did."

Somehow, it made Harry feel better to hear her say that. "Thanks, Ginny."

Harry looked back to Hermione, then. "If there aren't any hidden spells in it, what should I do now?"

"I don't know," she said, glancing back over at his bed, where she's left the Manual sitting. "The best thing would probably be to turn it over to McGonagal. Even if it's nothing but a book of joke spells, in the wrong hands, that thing could cause all sorts of problems. Besides, I'm still not convinced it was right for you to use it in classes."

"You're just still angry that Harry got the Defense Assistant position instead of you," Ginny retorted, with a snicker.

"I am not!" Hermione replied, hotly. "Seriously, what he's doing is cheating!"

"Then, as a prefect, shouldn't you have informed McGonagal of what he'd been doing by now?" she challenged.

In the end, none of them could decide what to do about the Manual. Harry was reluctant to get rid of it, or turn it over to any of the professors at Hogwarts. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the believe that this was still the closest thing to having his parents back. His father, James, had written spells of his own design in that book. The Marauder's Map had led him to it, as if it were meant to be.

Hermione did, however, convince him to speak with Lupin the next time he came. Harry didn't relish the idea. Most recently, it seemed like the two of them couldn't spend five minutes in each other's company without having a row. Harry was beginning to understand how the twins felt with Molly Weasley most of the time. He tried stalling at first with the prospect that Lupin wouldn't be back at the Burrow again for the rest of the holiday, but Hermione shot that down quickly by informing him that Molly had invited both he and Tonks for Christmas dinner. To be sure he did it, too, Hermione strong armed Harry into sending Hedwig off with a letter, asking to speak with him in private that day. For the rest of the afternoon, Harry avoided talking with her. Deep down, he knew she only meant well, but Hermione's mollycoddling was becoming as bad as Ron's own mother.

Of course, it was very difficult to avoid Hermione. The Burrow as always was bustling with activity, and the closer it came to Christmas day, the worse things were. Fred and George were staying at their own place, but promised to show up the night before with gifts for everyone, much to Ron's excitement. Fleur, or Phlegm as Ginny continued to call her, kept grating on Molly's nerves by coming down to the kitchen and discussing colored wedding invitation parchments. Molly held her temper, in turn, but gumbled things unintelliably under her breath the whole time. Predictably enough, Fleur's presence was making Ron fall into a stupor whenever she walked past him. His constant drooling was becoming a problem, especially after Ginny slipped in a puddle of it on the staircase. Luckily, Ron had been behind her to break her fall, owing to the fact that Fleur's hair had struck him in the face, and he was left stammering uncontrollably.

This was having a bad effect on his relationship with Hermione. Between Molly shooting daggers at Fleur whenever she cuddled up next to Bill on the couch, and Hermione stomping on Ron's each time in turn to keep him from staring, Christmas approached the Burrow with a high level of tension in the air. The only good thing so far had been Lupin writing back to Harry almost at once. He remembered the Professor saying that the pack was stationed not far from here, in South Ham. Remus' letter was surprisingly cheerful.

_I'd be glad to sit down and talk with you. It feels like we left things on a bad note, and I must admit that is at least partly my fault. Arthur has been pestering me to tell you some things before you go back to Hogwarts, anyway. I look forward to seeing you then._

Harry wasn't sure having Lupin and Tonks together at the same table would help lower the animosity growing inside the Burrow. Avoiding Hermione had meant avoiding Ron as well, and he'd spent a great deal of time alone with his thoughts. Neville had told them about seeing Tonks arguing with what had looked like Professor Lupin at Diagon Alley, and when they had finally met up with Tonks, she had been crying. Harry had all but figured out what was going on there, but there wasn't anything really for him to do about it. More to the point, he wasn't sure he wanted to be involved in it.

The night before Christmas saw the Burrow filled to capacity. The twins showed up with both arms full of presents. They spent the next hour sorting through who got which ones, with Harry's pile being the most. It was embarassing, but they insisted it was only part of their repayment plan. Neither of them would take back their old bedroom, either, insisting that, if necessary, they would camp out in the living room. Molly was making sure Fleur kept as far from Bill's bedroom as possible, for as long as he was there. It was chaos at first, especially when Charley showed up to add to the mix, but with the twins there to lighten the mood, a great deal of the strain that had filled the air for days was finally lifted. Arthur managed to come home at a resonable hour for once, and he brought with him a roasted ham, along with egg nog and a bottle of Olden's Firewhiskey.

Fred and George were first in line with conjoured glasses. As they were finally of age, Arthur couldn't deny them any longer. Harry watched as he and Ron both were stuck with plain egg nog, but George motioned him over shortly thereafter and passed him a colored glass filled to the brim with the red amber liquid. Ginny spotted this, unfortunately, and raised an eyebrow towards them. To keep her quiet, George poured some in her own glass, though it was barely half full. Seeing the sour look on her face, Harry shared a bit of his until their glasses were more or less even.

Everyone's spirits were lifted. The Burrow started to feel warm at last. Even Harry couldn't remain angry at Hermione now, and all of them stood around together laughing and joking with one another. At one point, Ron kept snickering to himself and nudging Hermione in the ribs. Harry couldn't figure out what was so funny. Finally, Hermione pointed upwards, and he saw then that he and Ginny both had been standing under mistletoe for the last hour or more. Quickly, they seperated and eyed one another sheepishly.

At last, Molly announced it was time for them to head up to bed. None of them liked the idea, but reluctantly made their way up the stairs to avoid spoiling the mood. Fred and George made sure to give Harry one last ribbing about kissing Ginny under the mistletoe before falling asleep. Everyone watched him for a moment, as though they were expecting him to do it. Harry looked at Ginny, who avoided everyone by going up the stairs without him. Arthur and the twins both laughed about Harry being dumped as their faces grew redder. He smiled, but felt a slight pang in his chest as he left the room.

The feeling didn't leave him after he'd settled down for the night. His mind continued to race long after the noise downstairs dwindled to nothing. Slowly, the Burrow grew quieter, yet Harry remained wide awake. Over and over again, he found himself replaying the scene of him and Ginny together in his mind. Again, he felt a blush creep up his face as the two of them seperated. Nothing he did would take his mind off it. Harry spent what felt like an eternity going over Quidditch plays, reviewing Defense Association plans, and even trying to count sheep. None of it worked, though. What more, the longer he tried to distract himself, the more Harry got the suspicious this had been bothering him for a long time.

It was no secret to anyone that Ginny had nursed a crush on him for a long time. The fact that Harry rescued her in his second year had helped fuel it for a long time, though, to be fair, it had been going on for longer than that by what Ron said. Harry had always tried to keep himself spaced from her. Lying there, he wondered now if her opening up more around him hadn't been due to the way he'd handled her feelings so poorly. He had to admit, there had been plenty of times he could have dealt with Ginny's feelings better. The way she'd reacted when he showed up at the Burrow out of the blue with Rayne in tow surprised him now. Out of everyone, Ginny had appeared unaffected by his being with her. Perhaps, in the end, she really was over him now.

Something about that troubled him. Harry didn't want to think he'd become infatuated with her somehow. Sure, they both shared a love of Quidditch, something Rayne had confessed was beyond her understanding. And it was true they were closer now than ever. When Harry wasn't speaking with Ron or Hermione, she had stepped up to take his side. Being with her, Neville, and Luna was the most fun he'd had in ages. Lying there, he tried to keep his feelings seperated. Looking at each one of them only made the tightness in him grow worse. When he thought of Rayne, it felt like a hot, boiling ache was getting ready to burst out of his chest. Harry missed her with every fiber of his being. The only way to stay sane without her had been to immerse himself with thoughts of school, the D.A., Quidditch, and fighting Voldemort.

Slowly, tenatively, he stepped back in his mind and allowed Ginny's face to drift up to the surface. A warm, pleasant feeling floated into him from somewhere. He felt a little light-headed, like he had just taken some of Madame Pomfrey's Pepper-Up Potion. It wasn't a bad feeling, which only made him feel worse. If anything, thinking about her made Harry feel better than he had in months. Again, he thought of Rayne, and as though on cue, the burning ache inside him rose up. Ginny's face swam in front of him again, and the warm feeling returned. The two dueled with one another for what might have been hours. Harry lost all track of time as an internal struggle waged war for supremacy. After an undetermined amount of time, he passed out from sheer exhaustion, with no clear victor decided.

*****

Christmas morning saw Harry being dragged downstairs by Ron for breakfast. He would have much rather had the chance to sleep in, giving his restless night, but Ron was having none of it. So, Harry found himself chewing down strips of bacon while trying not to pass out in his tea. Molly took notice of how tired he looked, and insisted on checking him over from head to toe.

"I'm fine," he insisted, as she searched through an old copy of '_Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Magical Maladies'_. "I just... couldn't sleep last night."

"Ron should be the one who's tired," Ginny whispered to him. "He kept trying to slip in and convince Hermione to go for a walk all night. Hermione wasted a good ten minutes taking off the Bat-Boogie Hex I put on him, then sent him back to his room, pouting."

Harry laughed along with her, while Ron shot her a sour look and pretended to be scanning the Daily Prophet. "Nothing worth talking about," Ron told Harry, when he asked seriously if there was any new developments. "Either the Death Eaters went on holiday, or the Ministry is keeping a lid on things again."

"Still nothing about Hogsmeade, huh?"

"Nothing bigger than the third-page article they ran before," he grumbled. "It's ridiculous! Everybody knows You-Know-Who is out there. Why can't they just come right out and say that the Ministry doesn't know what it's doing?"

"Because that would make the Ministry look bad, Ron," Bill informed, entering the kitchen with Fleur in tow. "Scrimgeour isn't interested in helping people understand the truth. He just wants to be at the top of the pile in the end."

"In any case," Molly spoke up, giving Fleur a dirty glance. "We should all focus on something else for once. All of you into the living room while I finish up with Christmas dinner. And make sure you tell Fred and George no sneaking any out. Just because they're of age now doesn't mean I can't give their bottoms a swat!"

The idea of her smacking the twins seemed funny to Harry. Obediently, he left the kitchen for the more reasonably safe living room with the others, not willing to take any chances. For a while, everyone sat around talking and laughing, either at Fred and George's antics, or whenever Ron stood up involuntarily and danced a quick gig with the enchanted Dancing Slippers Ginny had slipped onto his feet. It was nice being at the Burrow again, yet Harry couldn't bring himself to relax. Too many things occupied his mind, and it was making him restless.

Finally, unable to take it anymore, he excused himself and made for the front door. The air outside was cool and crisp, but missing the sharp sting that had lurked in the wind for months now. It was a wonderful change of pace, and for a few minutes, Harry just stood there on the porch and enjoyed the quiet. The noise from inside still drifted to his ears through the Burrow walls, but with it muffled, he didn't mind much.

Little by little, Harry began wandering down towards the edge of the yard, taking care to stay inside the anti-Apparation line. He couldn't risk the chance that one of Voldemort's Death Eaters or members of the Ministry weren't watching. Harry had the distinct impression he was in fact being observed by someone from a distance. It nagged at him a bit, but so long as he remained inside the Weasley property, it didn't matter. He wasn't doing anything at the moment worth concerning himself over that could theoretically tip the scales in the Death Eater's favor, anyway. As if to show his contempt, he began picking at his nose for a bit, and laughed slightly at the imagined look that one of Voldemort's followers, or perhaps one of Scrimgeour's Blackstaffs, would wear at the sight of this. Surely, it wasn't the sort of thing the Wizarding World's Champion would do while being spied on.

"Harry!"

Harry didn't turn around as Professor Lupin walked up to him. The closer his former teacher got, the slower his footfalls became. They were hesitant, almost sounding afraid of what Harry might do. Harry waited until Lupin leaned up against the fencing alongside him, then turned slightly.

"Be careful what you say," he muttered, lowering his head. "We're being watched."

Lupin immediately straightened up and gazed outward into the field beyond them. After a moment, he turned around with his back against the fence. Harry did the same, and waited for him to speak.

"It's not a Death Eater," Lupin mused, glancing back over his shoulder once. "They're very clever. Waiting just out of the range of where I could smell them. That means it's likely not an Auror, unless Dumbledore has Mad-Eye Moody watching the place, which isn't out of the question. Either way, I guess there's no reason to worry about it right now. I'll warn Arthur about it once we go inside."

Harry nodded, then waited a moment before speaking again. "Sorry about the other day."

"I owe you more of an apology," Lupin replied. "You're almost of age now, Harry, and far closer to being a man than I would like to admit."

He wasn't sure how to answer that. "Have you heard from Tonks?" he asked, instead.

Lupin's reaction to the question was quite cold. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering," he began slowly. "If anyone else besides Mrs. Weasley knew she was pregnant with your baby."

"How did... who told you that?"

"It's really not hard to figure out," he replied. "Hermione might know herself, but I haven't heard her say anything. Is that why Snape said Dumbledore didn't want you around Hogwarts anymore?"

Lupin sighed. "Not exactly. Tonks was the one who asked Professor Dumbledore to not let me in."

The anger that had been building in Harry's chest slightly ebbed. "Why does Tonks..."

"When we found out," Lupin began. "I asked her to marry me. Tonks didn't want me taking responsibility by marrying her for the sake of a child. It sounded wrong to her, so she turned my offer down. I kept insisting, and finally she told everyone that she didn't want me around her anymore. Dumbledore informed me that, for the sake of her feelings, I should avoid coming to Hogwarts for the time being. He was actually very sympathetic, and promised to talk to her on my behalf. Unfortunately, none of it seems to have helped so far."

"How did she get away from the Ministry?" he wondered. "When she took my place that time?"

"Dumbledore's work again. He reminded Scrimgeour that, while the Ministry was perfectly within their rights to hold someone for questioning under the concerns that they might be a traitor, keeping a pregnant woman hostage and denying her proper treatment would not go over well with the general public. In the end, she wound up with a verbal warning and was transfered over to Hogwarts to spy for Scrimgeour, per Dumbledore's orders. It's really all quite brilliant, you see."

Harry had nothing to say concerning that. "She's supposed to come here today. Mrs. Weasley invited her."

"I know," Lupin nodded. "At first, for a long time, I thought perhaps staying away would be the better thing. Forcing her into a situation with me was cruel to begin with, especially given my unique... ailment. Perhaps people such as myself really don't belong around normal witches like Tonks."

"You're fine just the way you are," Harry insisted, softly. "You were the one who taught me how to form a Patronus, remember?"

That made Lupin smile. "You don't know how many times Sirius spoke highly of you, Harry. It was his favorite topic of conversation, just like James. They both would lean over your crib at night and watch you, like you were some sort of miracle. Of course, it's easy to see why."

Harry felt as though a balloon were being inflated inside his chest, while at the same time, a sharp dagger pierced directly through his heart. A single tear leaked out before he managed to force his emotions under control. To avoid further embarassment, Harry quickly changed the subject.

"By the way," he said roughly. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Oh, that..." Lupin cleared his throat quickly. "Well, Arthur was the one who brought it up. Seems that this was originally Molly's idea, but Arthur seemed to think I was better suited to the task, seeing as how you and I have more of a history together. That was his version of events, anyway."

Harry watched as Lupin shifted uncomfortably. "It seems Molly has grown concerned of late. She seems to think you need to have proper guidance when it comes to dealing with matters of the... er, female persuasion."

Harry waited curiously for Lupin to continue, but his old Defense professor stood there looking quite unnerved. "You mean..."

"It's perfectly understandable," Lupin cut him off, rapidly. "And we all are aware of your recent experience... so to speak. You should know, though, that every wizard had responsibilities to take in addition to the... er..."

Harry turned around to lean over against the fencing again, this time to prevent Lupin from seeing the grin on his face. Try as he might, he couldn't stop the laughter bubbling up from within. As Harry snickered uncontrollably, Lupin glared down at him wearing a rather wolfish look in his eyes.

"I cannot believe you all spent this much time waffling around trying to talk to me about sex!" Harry gloated.

"Harry," Lupin said stiffly. "We were being watched just a moment ago, remember?"

"Right," he said, straightening up at once. "Right. Continue, Professor..."

*****

To Harry's credit, he managed to sit through Professor Lupin's entire lecture without making so much as a sound. This, he reasoned, should have warranted him extra credit, yet he remained satisfied with the fact of it being over, finally. As they headed back up to the Burrow together, with Lupin appearing slightly flushed himself this time, Molly Weasley came out to meet them. At first, Harry thought she wanted to hear for herself whether Lupin had finally completed his task or not. As he drew closer, however, it was clear something was wrong.

"Harry..." she gasped, on the verge of tears. "Remus, there's been another attack. Tonks was at St. Mungo's when Death Eaters stormed the place! They say she's being held there in the Curse ward for serious treatment."

Lupin paled, and for a moment, Harry thought he might actually pass out. "I'm sorry, Molly," he began. "But I've got to..."

"Go on!" she waved him away. "Let us know once you hear something. Arthur already went on ahead of you. If you need anything, let us know."

Lupin nodded, and started to leave. "Wait," Harry called after him. "Let me go with you."

"Harry..." Molly began, but Lupin interrupted her.

"You're better off waiting here with the others, Harry. There's nothing you can do there now, and the place is likely already crawling with Aurors and other Ministry officials. It will be difficult enough for a werewolf to get in."

"That's why I can help," he pointed out.

Lupin's face softened. "You're very kind, Harry, but if the Ministry have half a chance, they won't hesitate to come up with some excuse to detain you. Bringing you into the Ministry has become Scrimgeour's obsession. Besides, Dumbledore wants you where it's safe."

"I know," Harry replied. "That's why I'm coming with you."

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley motioned in vain. "Come inside, dear."

Lupin looked Harry in the eye for a moment, then turned back and walked up to stand before him. "Harry, no one can know what the future truly holds. Not even Dumbledore. Your time will come soon, but until then, please remain here for me."

"Because it's safe?"

"Because there are others who need you here," Lupin corrected, earnestly. "They need to feel safe, Harry."

Harry thought over this for a moment, and reluctantly complied. "Rayne was under her mother's spell," he called out, as Lupin started off again. "She couldn't help herself. I killed Yuzuho to break the control she had over her forever."

Lupin smiled at this. "I suspected as much," he said. "You would have done James proud, Harry."

Harry watched as Lupin walked to the end of the road beyond the border of the anti-Apparation line. Only after his former teacher disappeared from sight did Harry finally allow himself to be led back towards the house by Mrs. Weasley. Inside, the atmosphere had grown dark indeed as the word of Tonks' condition had apparently already been spread around. The Weasley clan ate their Christmas dinner in silence, mindfully aware of the empty place where Arthur normally sat, who had yet to return. Harry wondered if Tonks' child would survive whatever curse had been placed on her. Moreover, he wondered if this might be what she and Lupin needed.

The fear of death hung over the Weasley dinner table that evening like some physical apparation. Almost like a dementor. During the whole time they ate in silence, Mrs. Weasley would get up from her seat and peer out the window searchingly. Each time, she looked away as though disappointed by whatever she saw there.

"I thought perhaps Percy might join us," she explained to everyone. "I sent word, but it looks like he must have gotten caught up at St. Mungo's, probably."

"Stupid git," Ron grumbled, when Mrs. Weasley went to look one last time. "Should just piss off, if you ask me."

"We didn't," Fred informed him. "But you're right for once, Ron. Congradulations."

The rest of the evening continued on the same vein. When Harry went upstairs to the twins old bedroom for something to occupy his mind, the others followed, more to escape the dark cloud that had settled in over everything. Harry let them in, but afterwards made a beeline for his trunk, and the Marauder's Manual. Hermione's eyes got real big as she watched him flip casually through it.

"Well?" she demanded, when he said nothing.

"Well, what?"

"Did you ask him?" she practically shouted. "What did Professor Lupin have to say? Is it dangerous?"

Harry shrugged. "I didn't get the chance."

"How come?" Ginny asked him, in a much calmer tone.

"We got sidetracked talking about... something else. Either way, I've decided it doesn't really matter. If the Marauder's Map thought I should have it, then that's good enough for me."

"But what about..." Hermione stammered. She looked ready to tear into him with one of her tirades again. "Harry, it's just wrong. What you've been doing so far is cheating. Ron and I will have to report this soon!"

"Hermione, if you really thought this was cheating, then you'd have told on me long ago," Harry pointed out. "Being friends was never a good enough reason for you to overlook someone breaking the rules. Honestly, you're starting to sound like a broken record."

"What's a record?" Ron wondered.

"You're also one to talk about cheating," he added, in a warning tone. "Considering what happened at the Quidditch tryouts."

Hermione paled, then glared at him angrily. Ron, meanwhile, was looking back and forth between the two of them in confusion. "Hold on," he insisted. "What are you both going on about?"

"Tell him," Harry replied, calmly.

Hermoine screwed her face up like she was ready to scream at him. Taking a deep breath, she managed to calm herself down enough to speak in a more normal tone. Her eyes still glared daggers at him, however.

"None of that should matter now," she said, challengingly. "If you knew about it from the beginning, why is Ron still on the team instead of Youngblood... whatever his name is, huh? And I hardly think any of this is the same thing."

"Oh, don't try comparing Quidditch to homework, Hermione," Ginny broke in. "You'll only make yourself sound stupider."

"What's this about Youngblood?" Ron demanded, looking at her. "Why should he be playing Quidditch instead of me?"

Hermione turned around without answering him and stormed out the door, giving it a good slam as she left. "This is becoming a habit of hers," Ginny noted. "I wonder what the Fat Lady will do when we get back to Hogwarts?"

Ron was fuming now. "Out with it!" he demanded. "What have the three of you been going on about? This isn't the first time you've said something like that, and I want to know, Harry."

Harry glanced over to Ginny, who did the same, then stood up. "You tell him, Harry," she said. "He'll take it from you better than he ever could hearing it from me."

"Ginny!" Harry called after her.

"Sorry, Harry," she apologized, closing the door behind her. "But hearing about Tonks was enough of a disaster for me."

Ron turned around to glare at him as the door shut behind her. "Harry, should I have been put on the team?"

"Ron," he began, sighing deeply. "Sit down. There's something I guess you should know."

Ron actually listened for once, and took a seat at the foot of his bed. Throughout all of Harry's explaination, he remained very quiet, which Harry took as a very bad sign. Not once did Ron make a sound, until Harry finished up.

"You knew all along?" Ron demanded in a deceptively calm voice.

"Not until Ginny told me after tryouts," he said quickly. "She saw it from off to the side, but didn't tell me until afterwards. Neither one of us wanted to play with Youngblood, and personally, I thought you were the better choice. It just sort worked out for the best without you knowing."

"How come you didn't say anything?"

"Because..." Harry began, and took a deep breath. "I... wasn't sure how you'd react. You might not have played as well as you did in the last two matches if you'd know. That, and I was afraid you'd think I let you on the team because I felt sorry for you."

Ron thought that over for a second. "That would've been alright," he stated, to Harry's surprise. "I really do play better than that git any day. He just got in a lucky shot, that's all. And it's not as though Hermione hasn't broken rules before, no matter what she says."

Harry amused himself by listening to Ron's rationalization of this new information. "She really shouldn't come down on so many people about cheating and such, though," Ron went on, ignoring the look on Harry's face. "Maybe this will be good for her, you know? Help her get out of that bad habit of hers."

"You mean taking notes all the time and turning in her assignments when they're scheduled to?" he prompted.

"Exactly!" Ron nodded. "Neither of us did that sort of thing, and look where we ended up!"

Ron left shortly thereafter, leaving Harry alone to pour over the Marauder's Manual again, this time in search of more spells. A lot of the more interesting ones required non-verbal usage, which Harry was still behind on. He would have to practice more once they got back to Hogwarts. Hours past, and the sun had long set with Harry still going through page after page of the Manual's secrets. Each time he stopped for a break, his mind drifted towards unpleasant thoughts such as Tonks, and the Death Eater he had killed. This time, however, Harry forced the latter from his mind totally. If he had killed, it was only in self-defence. If anyone else had a problem with it, that was their concern and not his.

The others were content to leave him alone. It was late on into the night when Harry finally put the Manual away for good and made ready for bed. As his head hit the pillow, he thought once more of Tonks and the condition of her and Lupin's unborn child. There had been no word, which Harry had taken to mean things were still hopeful. It felt strange to be thinking of Lupin as a father. Then again, any child would have to be lucky to have their father with them.

Thinking of this things kept Harry distracted, so he didn't notice at first when the window to his room slid upwards. A cold draft blew through and across his bed covers, making him raise up with his wand at the read. He'd hidden it underneath his pillow for safe-keeping. The lone figure paused at the sight of it, and stood perfectly still, as though waiting.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded.

"Is this how you treat all your ex-girlfriends?" the female voice asked, coyishly.

"Rayne?" The wand fell from his hands without warning. Harry groped for it, but before his fingers wrapped around the slender wood again, a light filled the room. Rayne was standing before him, waiting patiently by the window as if for some sort of signal, with her own wand glowing brightly.

"Merry Christmas, Harry," she whispered to him, and cautiously walked forward.

In her hands was an envelope. Harry barely glanced at it, then looked up into Rayne's face again. Slowly, she placed it on the stand beside the headboard, and stood in front of him, waiting.

"Is it really you this time?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly. "Are you for real?"

"I've always been real. Harry, it's me."

Harry practically leaped up out of the bed to meet her. His mouth met hers in a kiss, and when his arms reached around her, the stiffness in Rayne's body melted away like ice. Together, they kissed for a moment, with Rayne clutching the back of Harry's shirt tightly with one hand. The other still held on to her lit wand, until Harry finally grabbed it from her and tossed it away carelessly.

Seizing her, Harry brought Rayne down to the bed and rolled over on top, exploring her neck with light kisses all the while. Softly, she moaned while stroking the top of his spikey head, letting her fingers play through the strands of hair there. Grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, she tore it up over his head, knocking Harry's glasses asunder in the process. Harry said nothing about it, however, and helped her undress him the rest of the way, then started on her.

When they were both naked, Harry pinned her beneath his slender frame and kissed his way down her back. Rayne groaned the whole time, and attempted to raise up, only to have Harry force her back down again. She lay there for a moment, as Harry took a few minutes to run his hands over her body. Reaching between her legs, he felt the heat and moistness there, and knew she was ready.

Bringing her up on all fours, Harry pushed her legs apart enough to squat between them, then slowly entered her from behind. Rayne gasped as the heat of his shaft pushed all the way into her, rubbing past the point inside her that sent shockwaves down her spine. Arching her back, she let out a howl that forced Harry to cover her mouth with his hand. Once her cries had reduced to stiffled moans and gasps, he began moving in and out of her. She still hadn't adjusted to his size just yet, but the tightness made Harry groan in his own pleasure. It had been a while for both of them, and he would have liked to take his time, but Rayne had started clamping down around the length of him. It made her even tighter, and harder for Harry to hold back. By the way she was grunting, however, it looked like neither one of them was prepared to hold back.

So, Harry didn't.

Taking his hand away, Harry grabbed both of her hips and plowed forward. Rayne began gripping his sheets to hold herself back as his tempo picked up, taking them both closer and closer to the edge. The tip of his shaft was scraping up against something inside of her, making her scream into his pillow. It felt like some sort of wall, and it was driving Rayne nuts, so he tried pushing even harder. The length of him reached the end of her, sending her over into a whole new kind of orgasm. Sweat coated their bodies, and when Harry finally came, he collapsed on top of her as she was filled to the brim with his seed.

Eventually, he would recover enough to do it again the right way. For now, though...

For now, Harry turned them both on their sides and spooned up behind her, savoring the feel of her glistening body on his. All through the night, they made love to one another. Just before dawn, he finally drifted off to sleep from exhaustion, and didn't notice when she silently clothed herself again and slipped back out the window. It was a while before Harry awoke again and found her gone. All that remained was the envelope she had left on the stand by the bed for him. Harry read it, and felt a smile creep to his face.

Christmas was officially over. He had work to do.


	18. Chapter 18 Honor Guard of the Sock Lord

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 18

_**The Honor Guard of the Sock Lord**_

by Ri-kun

"Oh, Harry. Take Hedwig for a moment, would you please?" Mrs. Weasley said, passing him the cage as she quickly did a head-count. "Everyone stay together! Gracious, I thought we'd never make it through the barrier. Ginny, quit staring off into space and pay attention. The train will be leaving soon!"

Ginny sighed heavily. "Yes, Mum."

Ron and Harry both eyed her for a moment, sharing a conspiratorial grin as Molly Weasley's back was turned for a moment. They were all standing for the moment on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, with the Hogwarts Express blowing out gushes of steam their way. Before they'd left the Burrow that morning, it looked for all the world like this might be the first time they reached King's Cross with time to spare. Mrs. Weasley had roused them from their beds bright and early, with Ron tripping down the stairs again as Fleur walked past him. Instead of ignoring him this time around, Hermione spent every possible chance jamming her elbows into his ribs. Harry wasn't sure whether they'd brought up Hermione's cheating to get him on the Quidditch team thus far. It didn't look like it, as Ron was taking her abuse with his usual sullen grace.

The first bit of trouble had occured when Harry forgot to pack up Rayne's instructions into his trunk, and wound up unpacking everything just to hide them at the very bottom. By now, he'd almost completely memorized the information therein, but keeping a copy was important. The circle had looked extremely complicated, and without Hermione's help this time around, he needed every angle possible.

The second thing that went wrong occured just as they were loading up the two taxi cabs. Mrs. Weasley had already paid the fair for both of them, and they might have made a clean getaway had the road not become blocked by a sudden onslaught of oddly-shaped vehicles. Most of them looked far too small for more than two people to occupy, yet when the doors few open, over a dozen reporters emerged from each of them. Harry recognized the women leading the charge at once, and felt his inyards twist into angry knots.

Rita Skeeter, it seemed, had gotten back into the swing of things. The promotion to Co-Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Prophet certainly had brought her confidence back, judging by the way she swaggered cheerily up to them. Mrs. Weasley seemed taken aback for a moment by the sudden appearance of a mob on her property, but quickly regained her composure. Harry wasn't sure how, but the whole morning had just gone to hell in the space of a few seconds.

Hedwig let out a screech as Rita Skeeter's eyes landed on her, and ruffled her feathers almost threateningly. Harry smiled then, appreciating his owl for the help, but quietly lay her to the side just behind him.

"Harry," Hermione said hesitantly, as he stepped forward.

"Shh," Ginny warned, then took a spot next to him.

"Harry Potter," Rita gushed, as though greeting a long-lost friend. "Oh, it's been forever since we had a chance to sit down and talk with one another. Tell me, how long has it been?"

Harry remained silently, keeping his eyes for the most part of her. Hermione and Ron remained behind him, not far away. Mrs. Weasley was next to Ginny, and looked ready to hex the first person brave enough to come any close. For the moment, he appreciated her restraint, though.

"Looking for another interview?" he dared, bravely.

"Why, Harry?" she teased, pursing her lips together. "It's as though you were reading my mind. Has Dumbledore been showing you some of his tricks?"

"I wouldn't need Legilamancy to figure you out," Harry replied. "Experience has taught me that. What are you doing here?"

Rita shook her head, never losing her smile. "Harry, can't two old friends sit down for a chat? You're about to start a crucial phase in your magical education, and it isn't every day that the Wizarding world's Champion goes back to Hogwarts after a holiday with his extended family, right?"

"I never told anyone I was the Champion," he pointed out.

"Oh, Harry! You never had to. It's been obvious from day one. I, for example, was never fooled for an instant. You don't get to be as seasoned a reporter as I have unless you pay attention to the details."

Harry looked towards Mrs. Weasley. It pained him to do this, but there didn't look to be any other alternative. "Mrs. Weasley," he said in a firm voice. "Could you help everyone finish loading up? I'll be right behind you."

Their eyes met, and Harry pleaded with her to understand. For a moment, it didn't look like she was going to comply. To his credit, however, she didn't seem to take offense towards his ordering her around. That made him feel much better. Still, it was a long moment before she nodded and turned away. During that time, Molly Weasley's eyes kept drifting back and forth between him and Rita Skeeter, who watched the exchange carefully with a near obsessive gleam shining in her eyes.

"Now then, Harry..." Rita began.

"Go away," Harry cut her off at once. "Get out of here, and if you so much as put one more toe over the Anti-Apparation Line surrounding the Burrow, I will have Professor Dumbledore write to the Ministry and inform them of your own dirty little secret."

If Rita Skeeter was worried, it didn't show on her face. If anything, the gleem in her eye shown even brighter as his boldness. "Really, Harry. It's unbecoming of a Champion to hide behind Dumbledore. Can't you stand up for yourself now?"

"Oh, I am," he promised her. "And I don't need Dumbledore, especially not to take care of you. I'll march straight up to the Ministry and tell them myself if I have to. And you and I both know I can prove it. I'd be very shocked if the Minister of Magic didn't have a Pensieve tucked away somewhere, and Hermione has a really great memory, you know."

The other reporters were watching both of them closely. "Or," Harry threatened. "Should I just bring it out into the open right now? How many more interviews do you think you'll get once people find out..."

Harry had to stop himself from going too far. It wouldn't do to show her his hand all at once. "Leave," he told her. "You're blocking the road, and my friends and I are going to be late for school."

Harry turned around and walked back towards the taxi cabs. The whole time he'd stood there staring down Rita and her army of reporters, Ginny had not once left his side. Before they climbed in together, he gave her hand a light squeeze. It wasn't meant to be much, but Ron caught sight of it and gave Harry a funny look before climbing in his own cab with Hermione. They'd already finished storing everything away, and the cab drivers looked anxious to leave and put as much distance between themselves and the Burrow as possible. Harry thought the other cars might try and block their path, but the moment they came close enough, they each pulled back far enough to allow them through, with plenty to spare.

The whole drive to King's Cross, their driver kept watching him closely from his rear-view mirror, wearing a confused face. Harry supposed he wasn't used to one of his fares being treated so famously. No doubt, he was trying to place where he might have seen Harry's face before. The thought made him chuckle, but otherwise, it was a quiet trip.

*****

Unlike before, the trip from Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters this time around was, for the most part, at least, fairly uneventful. By this, Harry could only mean that there weren't any Death Eater attacks in the vacinity. According to Mrs. Weasley, only the most fanatical members of Voldemort's inner circle would have dared brave King's Cross this time around. Ministry officials had covered every square inch of the station, to the point that people sneezing were suspect of foul play. Arthur Weasley had apparently already received word of this already and relayed it through her, for she instructed the driver to pull over just as the building came within sight.

"I meant to tell you about this earlier, Harry," she whispered regretfully. "We're supposed to drop you off here with the Order. I expect we'll hear from you soon. And don't worry about the others. They'll catch up with you shortly."

The cab was gone before Harry had the chance to ask what she meant. There hadn't even been enough time for him to retrieve Hedwig, or get his trunk. Rayne's instructions were still inside of it, and the last thing he needed was for someone else to locate that, or his Invisibility Cloak.

A lone figure was coming up the walkway towards him. Harry paused, and felt for his wand instinctively. The imposing figure seemed to sense this, and gave a short smile his way before stopping a few feet short of Harry. Both of them eyed one another for a moment, then the stranger spoke.

"What has Dumbledore always wanted for Christmas?" the stranger asked in a gruff, yet familiar voice.

"Err..." Harry paused, and then it dawned on him. "Socks! A pair of socks."

The figure hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Good enough I suppose," he grumbled, then motioned behind him with a free hand.

Harry looked past him to see several parts of the brick wall behind them bulge out like large blobs. As they did, the Disillusionment Charm surrounding all of them broke, revealing several members of the Order, Professor Lupin among them.

"Professor Moody?" Harry guessed at the man in front of him.

"Aye," the elder Auror nodded in his disguise. "Ready to be off? We can't afford to be caught standing around on a street with our thumbs up our asses."

"No, Mad-Eye. We can't," Lupin agreed, giving Harry a nod.

"Hello, Professor," Harry nodded, curtly. "How's Tonks?"

"Better. Asleep at St. Mungo's for the moment." Lupin's mouth set in a grim line for a moment, but then his face brightened considerably. "They're keeping her under close observation for the time being, but things look good for her and the baby. We're all hoping for the best."

"Been keeping out of trouble, have we?" Miss Figg asked, breaking in. "I hope that fat pudge you call a cousin hasn't had anymore run-in's with Dementors."

"No, he hasn't," Harry laughed, giving the Squib a nod in return. "Not that I'm aware of, at least."

"He wouldn't last two seconds if you weren't there to bail his sorry arse out," she went on, sniffing distainfully. "It really is good to see you again, Harry."

Harry just smiling and thanked her, not real sure of what else to do. It was odd to think of the cranky old woman who once babysat Harry when the Dursleys wanted to go out somewhere nice without him criticising his aunt, uncle, and cousin to. Even stranger was listening to her sing his praises.

"And speaking of arses," Moody broke in. "Thumbs up ours while we stand in the street, remember? You-Know-Who could've attacked and killed us twice in the amount of time you three have spent jawing."

"Right, Moody," Lupin sighed. "Let's be on our way then, shall we?"

"Good," Moody nodded. "Figg, you take point with Lupin around the boy. I'll be the one directing us."

Harry wanted to ask what was going on, but Lupin and Figg had already surrounded him. Moody took point ahead of them, to where all three were touching one another in some way all at the same time. Harry opened his mouth, but then his whole body was gripped in an indescribable sensation. It felt almost like he were being shoved down a hollow tubing with the wind roaring around his ears. It was almost like traveling with Floo Powder, only with the whole world spinning around him this time. Then, Harry's whole body froze up for a second as it met some kind of invisible resistance. With a loud crack that rang in his ears, he was shoved through it, and once again felt solid ground beneath him.

"Oh, my stars!" Miss Figg gasped. "It's no wonder so many wizards prefer using a broom. I don't think I'll ever get used to that awful sensation. It's nearly enough to make me be glad I'll never use magic."

"Nothing quite like the feel of the whole world dropping out from under you," Mad-Eye Moody said, though Harry couldn't tell if he was agreeing with her or not.

"Where are we?" he asked, looking around in a daze. They were standing on a platform that Harry recognized as the one he normally would disembark onto from the Hogwarts Express. It was still morning, not a moment later hardly than when they'd left the streetside in London.

"Did... did we just Apparate?" he asked, confused.

"A bright one, you are," Miss Figg noted. "Something I could have done without, but it was the fastest and best way to get you here without the Ministry or Voldemort catching wind of."

"Side-Long Apparation," Lupin quickly explained for his benefit. "That is, Apparating with a partner, is something that should only be attempted in an extreme emergency. The chances for Splinching increased drastically for a witch or wizard the more people they take with them. I was giving Moody here a boost, so to speak, though."

It hadn't felt nearly so bad when he'd gone with Dumbledore, and Harry opened his mouth to say as much. Instead, his knees gave out under him, sending him falling to the ground. An awful bile composed of Mrs. Weasley's breakfast rose up into his throat, and spilled out in front of him, missing Miss Figg's soles by mere inches. Apparently, she'd been expecting something of this, and quickly leaped to the side out of the range of fire. Embarassed, Harry raised back up to his feet, to be met with sympathetic nods from just about everyone.

"Don't be embarassed," Lupin assured him, before Harry could say a word. "I'd be shocked if it hadn't happened."

"What..." Harry started, but Mad-Eye quickly interjected.

"Nausea is a common side-effect for multiple Side-Long Apparation. Just be grateful all your appendages are in the right places. Now get up, quickly. We can't afford to stay out in the open like this."

During the trek, his stomach plagued him with every step, yet Harry was determined not to lose whatever remained of his breakfast again. Luckily, his nausea subsided before they reached the castle gates. Professor McGonagal was waiting for them there this time.

"Morning, Potter," she nodded curtly, as if he arrived at school always in such a manner. "I trust the journey was uneventful."

"He's in one piece," Mad-Eye assured her. "We should be off. Dumbledore will want us to report in before you head back to St. Mungo's, Lupin."

"Right," Remus nodded, giving Harry a light pat on the shoulder. "See you later, Harry."

Professor Moody, Lupin, and Miss Figg all wandered back down the path away from Hogwarts towards Hogsmeade instead of following McGonagal up to the school. Harry found this strange, but assumed that Dumbledore hadn't arrived yet. It was odd to think of the headmaster living anywhere but here. Even now, Harry couldn't help but associate the two as part of a bigger whole.

The castle felt empty as Professor McGonagal led him into the Great Hall. The normally bustling chamber felt eerie without the sounds of students chattering aimlessly with one another. A single place had been set up at the very end near the faculty table, and food was already laid out around it.

"The house-elves seemed eager to make sure your arrival was a pleasant one," McGonagal said, stiffly. "I hope you don't mind, but they insisted on seeing to it you felt welcomed. Just try not to mention it to the rest of Gryffindor tower."

Harry had a feeling one particular elf was responsible for all this, as the spread contained virtually all his favorite things to eat. More importantly, a single white Christmas sock was laid out next to his napkin. It was hand-woven, and whoever stitched it together had embroided it with red and green Snitches. Smiling, Harry tucked it away in his robe pocket and began eating. The house-elves had gone all-out: there was hot soup with bits of ham and cheese, several pieces of leftover turkey, a whole plate full of chicken wings covered in some sort of spicy sauce that burned the outside of his mouth yet still tasted amazing, trussel pudding, and a whole chocolate pie.

"I have things to attend to, so I trust you can remain out of trouble until the train arrives?" McGonagal asked.

As McGonagal turned to leave, she glanced behind at him. Harry almost thought he saw her smile, but when he raised up, she was already looking away. Harry completed his meal in silence, then wandered around for a bit. It had been some time since he'd explored the castle, and this was too rare an opportunity to miss out on. Eventually, Harry found himself drifting down to the second floor corridor where the Marauder's Manual had been found. He'd honestly meant to ask Professor Lupin about it over the holidays, but with the argument they'd gotten into, and what happened to Tonks afterwards, there hadn't seemed like an appropriate time.

Harry had to be honest with himself. He still wasn't sure he wanted to know. The Manual still felt like a part of him, even after Hermione had been proven right. In spite of the idea that some of the spells were dangerous, he couldn't release it just yet. There were still things he needed to know, and somehow, Harry felt like the Manual held the key to them. The hidden compartment was exactly where it had been last time, behind the photograph of his parents standing alongside Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail. Harry watched them wave at him for a moment before sliding the picture aside to reveal the empty chamber behind it. There was nothing there, of course. He'd removed everything the first time, yet Harry ran his hand all along the compartment from top to bottom, checking to make sure nothing had escaped his notice.

It was a silly idea, but the corridor had been dark the first time he located this place with the Marauder's Map. Nothing was inside, however. He wasn't sure exactly what it was he'd been hoping to find. Some added clue that would explain things in a more detailed way, perhaps? Sure, he would have liked to have known what his parents had been thinking when they put that spell in there, but there was also another problem to be addressed. All of his plans for the D.A. had been based around what the Manual had taught him. If someone got hurt training with a spell he showed them from the Manual...

It was almost a relief when he heard people pouring in from outside. The Great Hall was still filling up when he took a seat and waited for the others, who came in a moment or two later with relieved looks on their faces.

"What's wrong?" he asked, as Ron, Ginny, and Hermione all sat down around him.

"It's cold!" Ron complained, rubbing his cheeks. "The wind is back, and it's worse than before."

The castle had felt mildly comfortable to him the whole time, so Harry merely shrugged. "I guess I just didn't notice. Did anything strange happen on the way here?"

"The whole King's Cross was filled with Ministry officials," Ginny said darkly. "Dad was right to drop you off and have someone else Apparate you here. With so many of them around, I wouldn't be surprised if they'd been planning something else."

"It looked like more than a few of them were looking for something," Ron added, rubbing his hands together. "Probably thinking you were coming with us, and were looking elsewhere when they realized you'd slipped by."

"They stopped the train twice to search it," Hermione added, frustrated. "And it wasn't Aurors!"

"Right," Ron added. "It were those blokes from before, the ones there looking for you the first time, Harry."

"Blackstaffs," he nodded, grimly. "Dumbledore told me about them. They work for Scrimgeour, and he's given them all sorts of powers that ordinary Aurors don't have."

"I still say they were on that train to look for someone," Ginny insisted. "And I don't think it was you, Harry. They kept checking compartments two or three times in a row. The weird thing is, not as many students were on the train this time. I think maybe they were searching for someone else."

"Like who?" Ron wondered, his mouth full of food.

The plates in front of them had finally filled up. Ron had already made several grabs, while everyone else was taking a more dignified approach. Once they'd all filled up and gotten a few bites in, Ginny put down her fork and nodded back behind her.

"Like Malfoy," she whispered.

Harry turned around almost on reflex. Draco Malfoy was not sitting as his usual place, nor were Crabbe and Goyle anywhere near him. "He wasn't on the train with us," Ginny informed him, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. "Both times they stopped the train, I didn't see him out in the corridor with everyone else. I did spot him on the platform, though, and it looked like he was talking to someone. They were acting real suspicious."

"The same man who gave him that package from before?" Harry wondered, looking up to Ron and Hermione.

"We didn't notice," Ron said, his face down in his plate. "Hermione and I were... um..."

"Distracted," Ginny finished for him, flatly.

Harry spent the rest of the evening wondering what Draco was up to. Ginny offered several theories on the subject, but in the end, it amounted to little more than pure speculation. Ron and Hermione continued to help, though Harry noted they seemed more interested in being alone with each other. When he came back from bathing in the Prefect's bathroom, Harry spotted the two of them off in a corner by themselves snogging.

"They've been like that since you left," Ginny told him, looking annoyed. "Honestly, you'd think the two of them could find something better to do. Getting them to help out is going to be a waste of time."

"Helping out with what?" he asked her.

"Fighting You-Know-Who," she answered at once, as though it were obvious. "I mean, Vold... Voldemort."

Harry smiled at her. "There's more to life than fighting Death Eaters," he pointed out. "I guess it doesn't hurt for them to be alone for a little while."

Ginny shook her head. "Ron's gotten worse than Bill with Phlegm. I think I'd rather be back at the Burrow with her than watch those two snog each other into the night."

"Love does seem to be in the air."

Harry expected Ginny to take his statement as the joke it was meant to me. When he looked at her, though, she was biting her lower lip as if trying not to cry. "What's wrong?" he wondered, fearing he may have said something rash.

"Nothing," she said a little too quickly. "I was just thinking about... Dean. And Seamus. They were let out of St. Mungo's a few weeks ago, just after Christmas, but both their parents decided to pull them out of school."

Harry had completely forgotten about both of them. "I'm sorry," he said, feeling like an utter prat. "How have they been?"

"Good, I suppose. To be honest, I haven't spoken to Dean in a while. We just sort of drifted apart after a while." Ginny looked up at Harry. "Does that make me sound like a terrible person?"

"No," he said at once. "Not at all."

"Thanks," she said, relieved. "It's not that I don't care about him, but we had all but broken up with each other before..."

"He and Seamus were Imperiused," Harry finished for her.

"Right. I did send him a letter after finding out he wasn't coming back to school. His Mum wrote me back and told me thanks for being so kind, but that I shouldn't spend all my time worrying about him."

With Ron and Hermione still snogging in the corner of the common room, Harry decided to head on upstairs and lay down. As tired as he felt, sleep eluded him. His trunk had been brought up for him, along with the instructions Rayne left, but Harry decided to leave them where they were for the time being. His thoughts were still too preoccupied with what Draco was planning.

At two in the morning, with Ron's bed still empty and Neville snoring peacefully, Harry crawled out of his sheets and sat on the side of the bed, thinking hard. What he needed was proof, evidence that Draco was up to something. And to get that, Harry would have to be following Malfoy's every step. Getting up, he rumaged through his trunk for a moment before withdrawing the Marauder's Map. Once activated, it showed Malfoy's position in his dorm down in the Slytherin dungeons. Whatever he was up to, it apparently didn't involve anything important tonight.

Sometime just before sunrise, Harry finally drifted off to sleep. In his dream, he was standing in the middle of a meadow. Someone had used powerful magic to divide it up into four different seasons. At one corner, on the divided line between spring and winter, Ginny was standing with her head held high looking right at him. Harry smiled at her, then turned around to glance back. Rayne was watching him from a position in the trees, right between where summer and autumn met. High up overhead were clouds that grew darker by the minute. In the distance, he could just make out Hogwarts.

Both Ginny and Rayne were talking to him, yet he couldn't hear a word either said. Looking around, he saw four stones laid out in a circle around him on the ground. Looking closely, each one had some sort of emblem scratched onto it. One was an arrow pointed up, and another looked like it could have been a sword, or a dagger. The other two were harder, but Harry was finally able to distinguish the third as a cup of some kind. The last one, however, he couldn't figure out.

Lightning struck from overhead, and the suddenness of it made him go blind for a second. When he could see again, Hogwarts was on fire in the distance. Rayne and Ginny were both gone, but in Ginny's place stood a ginger-colored wolf watching him closely. The stones with their strange symbols had vanished.

When Harry woke up, he was sweating bullets, and a pair of large brown eyes were leaning down over him from atop his headboard, watching him closely. Harry reached for his wand even as his own eyes widened in recognition.

"Dobby," he sighed, smiling. "It's just you."

"It is good to see Harry Potter again," Dobby said, giving an odd salute. "Has Harry Potter enjoyed his holiday and kept safe from the forces of You-Know-Who?"

"Sure, Dobby. Um, what are you doing here?"

"Dobby was hoping to see Harry Potter again, so he has been cleaning the Gryffindor tower every night, waiting for when Harry Potter would return. Dobby has great news for Harry Potter, if he would like to hear it."

"What's going on?" Harry wondered, then took note for the first time of the way Dobby was dressed. "And, Dobby? Why are you dressed like that?"

Gone were the stacks of hats that the house-elf had once placed on his head. Dobby's mismatched attire had changed as well, though proved no less eccentric. Dobby had donned an unmatching set of boots, and was now clad in a strange green kilt that had numerous coffee stains on them. The stains looked deliberate, as if Dobby had been trying to color the kilt with a pattern. It reminded Harry somehow of camoflague pants. The house-elf's chest was still bare, but wrapped around his shoulders was a rather elaborate scarf. A sock knit to match the same one Harry had found on his plate at lunch was pinned to it right over his heart. A bucket had been hammered out to resemble a helmet, and in one hand, Dobby clutched tightly a pair of garden sheers.

"That is what Dobby came to tell Harry Potter," Dobby squeaked, excitedly. "Dobby has been named First Leutenant of Harry Potter's honor guard!"

Harry blinked. "Honor guard? I have an honor guard?"

"Yes, Harry Potter. Many the house-elf at Hogwarts has been eager to hear Dobby's tales of Harry Potter's bravery and kindness since word that the infamous He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned."

"Still... an honor guard?"

Dobby smiled sheepishly. "Though most do not wish to be freed, Dobby has still told of his many years in the home of his cruel former masters. It is considered foul to speak poorly of our wizards' house and family, but over time, Dobby was able to convince several of his kind here at Hogwarts of the difference between good wizards and... and..."

"It's okay, Dobby," Harry told him, gently. "You can say it."

"And.. BAD DARK WIZARDS!" he spat out, gasping. "Thank you, Harry Potter. Dobby still finds it difficult sometimes."

"It's okay," he laughed. "But, what does this have to do with me having an honor guard full of house-elves?"

"Yes, as Dobby was saying, the house-elves still remember the times before Harry Potter's first defeat of the Dark Lord when our kind were hunted and treated lower than the lowest creature. Dobby has reminded the house-elves of Harry Potter's kindness and bravery, and how we will once again be trampled down by the Dark Lord and his followers without Harry Potter. At first, many insisted that the house-elf's loyalty was to Hogwarts and none other, but Dobby reminded them again that Harry Potter is home here at Hogwarts and nowhere else."

"And, that lead to you forming an honor guard?" he asked, confused.

"Yes, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby wears the mark of the Sock Lord himself, to show his allegance."

Harry's eyes widened at that. "Sock Lord?"

"Yes, Harry Potter. We house-elves have even composed a tribute song in your honor. Would Harry Potter like to hear it?"

"No! No, not right now, Dobby. It's very late, and... um, we might wake up Neville Longbottom. He's had a really long day, and we both need to be up early in the morning."

"Ah, Harry Potter is forever thinking of his friends before himself. It is such stories that have inspired the house-elves to rally together and aid Harry Potter in whatever way we can!"

Dobby brushed a tear from his eye as he spoke. Hearing this, Harry had a sudden inspiration. "Listen, Dobby. About this, er... Honor Guard thing. Would some of the house-elves be willing to help me with something? When they aren't busy, I mean."

"Harry Potter has but to say the word," Dobby replied, saluting again. "We of the Sock Lord's Honor Guard are here to serve!"

Harry thought he heard a snort come from Longbottom's bed, and sincerely hoped Neville was in fact still asleep, and not listening in the conversation. He could only imagine the fun the Slytherins would have if word reached them that Harry had been granted the title of Sock Lord by the house-elves. The thought made his ears burn for a moment with embarassment. Suddenly, 'Weasley is Our King' sounded like a term of endearment.

"Right," he said quickly, lowering his voice just in case. "I want you to follow Draco Malfoy. Don't hurt him or anything, just keep an eye on him. I think Draco is working for Voldemort... sorry, You-Know-Who."

"Harry Potter is forever brave for speaking the Dark Lord's name," Dobby said, shuddering. "Is there not anything else the Honor Guard can do?"

"Just watch Draco for me," Harry assured him. "If there's anything else, I'll let you know. I've been trying to follow him using the Marauder's Map, but it's not easy the way our classes are set up, and any time I have been able to check it, he's just been acting normally."

It occurred to Harry then that Dobby most likely had no idea what he was talking about. "Anyway," he went on. "If one of you can follow him invisibly, he might let his guard down at some point. When that happens, come and let me know. I have a feeling Malfoy is a Death Eater now."

"Dobby will spread the word at once!" he complied, saluting farewell. "And should Harry Potter ever need the aid of his Honor Guard again, he has but to call!"

With that, Dobby vanished from sight with a loud crack. Neville gave a loud snort and raised up out of bed just as Harry was crawling back under his sheets, satisfied now that he'd been able to do something about the problem with Draco.

"Harry?" Neville moaned. "What was that?"

"Nothing," he told him, laying back. "Go back to sleep."

Neville looked around instead, however, and wrinkled his brow in confusion. "Where's Ron?" he asked. "Shouldn't he have come to bed by now?"

Harry had a vague suspicious of where Ron was, but refused to comment on it. "Go back to sleep, Neville. Ron should be up in a minute or two."

Neville sighed and lay back. "It's just as well that I woke up," he mumbled. "I was having the weirdest dream, and you were in it. I dreamt you were standing downstairs in the Great Hall, and there were all these socks dancing around you..."


	19. Chapter 19 The Lost TimeTurner

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 19

_**The Lost Time-Turner**_

by Ri-kun

True to his word, Dobby kept a constant vigil on Malfoy from that night onward. Harry had him check in regularly with him twice a day and before bedtime to give a full report. It had been a week, so far, and the house-elves hadn't noticed much out of the ordinary. The one exception to this was the fact that Draco was spending all of his time alone. Just has Harry had thought, Crabbe and Goyle no longer followed Malfoy around, nor sat next to him in any of his classes. More to the point, when Malfoy wasn't in class, he was usually found off by himself. Malfoy had also been cutting classes regularly, only to go off by himself up to the Owlery, sometimes for hours.

Harry couldn't imagine what he would be doing up there. Ideally, this was how Draco would be receiving directions, but that didn't seem likely. Given how security at Hogwarts was, it didn't seem possible that anyone could get something into Hogwarts that way. Plus, Harry had also seen Draco using some kind of magical device on the train back when they first arrived. He would very much like to know what it was, and kept hoping the house-elves would catch him in the act again. So far, though, it hadn't happened.

Classes were moving ahead at full steam now. Harry had hoped to refrain from using the Marauder's Manual now, but it didn't look as though that were going to be possible. His Herbology project was falling behind thanks to his negligence. Luckily, Neville offered to help him catch up in exchange for Harry letting him use the Manual to better craft a potion for keeping Mimblelice Flies away.

Transfiguration was not getting any easy. Hermione finally relented and allowed Harry to demonstrate a special wand movement he'd taught himself for nonverbally transforming baby turtles into china figurines. Ron had to be shown it no less than four times before his would stop moving. During Charms, Harry scored an extra twenty points for Gryffindor when he reversed Professor Flitwick's Neuraturgy Hex nonverbally before anyone else. Hermione both had scowled when they learned of it, but she reluctantly admitted finally that Harry was doing well from what he learned out of the Manual.

"I still say it seems too much like cheating," Hermione snipped at lunch afterwards. "But I suppose there's nothing wrong with it, just so long as you show everyone else in the D.A. how the spells work."

Harry and Ginny both snickered at this, but said nothing in response. The D.A. was going much better these days. Professor Darkholme had been rather distant with Harry since school had started back, but said nothing bad concerning his leadership of the Defense Association. Defense Against the Dark Arts was still the class Harry excelled at beyond anything else, yet he'd hoped she would have taken note of his recent rise out of intellectual proverty.

Among the D.A., Harry had noticed a familiar face. Morgan Bloodmoon was making regular appearances at D.A. meetings now, and making more of a point to draw attention to himself than before. This of course earned him the ire of Ron, especially when Harry paired him up against Ginny several times. Ron had insisted he was putting her life in jeapody, but Harry knew better. Ginny was more than capable of defending herself against anyone if needed be. In fact, Morgan seemed to be doing his best not to cause her serious injury. That wasn't to say Ginny offered up the same courtesy. More times than not, Morgan had to pick himself and his severely-bruised ego off the floor. It had become one of the most entertaining things about the Defense Association.

To his credit, Morgan was being a very good sport about it. He laughed right along with everyone else, and even make a few jokes at his own expense when someone ribbed him. Little by little, they were all becoming closer as a team. As Harry searched each of their faces for sign of improvement, he began to see less and less the individual marks of Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, but rather them all together as a whole.

It was amusing how this seemed to get to Ron more than anything else.

"He's in Slytherin!" Ron practically shouted, one night in the common room after a particularly grueling day.

"Really, Ron? Thanks for pointing that out to me. Because, to be perfectly honest, the fact that he sits at the Slytherin table, goes down to the dungeons with them every evening, and has you breathing down his neck about it every five minutes weren't big enough clues. I feel much better now that you've pointed that out."

"Piss off," Ron sulked, looking away.

"Harry's right, Ron," Hermione stated, carefully. "I've said all along the Houses should cooperate more. Maybe this is a sign. Remember what the Sorting Hat warned us about?"

"Oh sure," Ron grumbled. "Take his side."

"Who?" Harry wondered, grinning slightly. "The Sorting Hat's?"

Ron was not in a good mood for the rest of the night. Harry waited up with Hermione as others wandered off to bed, checking their homework together. Hermione darted a glance over to the Manual lying open-faced next to him, but other than that, managed to keep her opinions to herself. To his credit, however, Harry was finding himself using it less and less, at least when it came to his homework. Now that he'd finally gotten nonverbal spells down, the principles with other magics became clearer to him.

Of course, that didn't mean they always worked. They'd all endured a rather frustrating period with Professor Flitwick earlier today trying to master a particularly difficult Grendulemous Charm, which was supposed to help counter-act a variety of common curses and jinxes if cast properly. Unfortunately, in less-than-skilled hands, it caused green, puss-filled spores to appear on the surface of the skin. That had been especially ugly.

Harry had alterior motives for staying awake, however. It wasn't until Hermione closed her Transfiguration book and yawned tiredly that he felt at ease. Getting up along with her, the two bid one another goodnight before going their seperate ways. Ron and Neville were sleeping soundly in their respective beds. Harry slipped past them, opened up his trunk, and withdrew everything he would need for tonight.

First, he stuffed extra pillows under his bedsheets to make it look as though it were occupied. Then, he dragged out the large throw rug that'd been pilfered from the Burrow the day before they all left. On one side of it was a magic circle that had been enscribed with ink made from various potion ingredients, as well as some of his own blood. It was all done according to Rayne's specifications, which had been tucked away at the bottom of his trunk. There was a second throw rug, still rolled up, and as Harry gathered it up in his arms, he questioned his actions for the millionth time.

In the end, there was really only one way through this. Resolving himself, he stepped on the rug stretched out beside his bed, and watched as it glowed softly. Raising his wand, he cast a quick charm around him to muffle what was sure to be a noisy crack loud enough to arouse everyone. According to Rayne, this was called an Apparation Circle. It had been invented many years ago by magical thieves as a means to enter past Anti-Apparation wards, but the inate setbacks of it (along with the fact that cases of Splinching almost doubled through it's use) had rendered it all but forgotten. Luckily, Rayne was confident the new improvements had made it safe enough for him to travel outside Hogwarts with.

Her instructions had also included a set-by-step set of instructions on how to Apparate. Harry had taught himself all through the remainer of his holiday at an excrusciating pace. More than once, he had emerged with missing pieces and severely bruised parts. Fortunately, though, he hadn't been training alone.

Though Harry was still embarassed, he had called in on the supposed debt Fleur owned him when he brought her sister Gabrielle back up from the bottom of the lake during the Second Task in his fourth year. Fleur had seemed reluctant in the beginning, but asked no questions as to why he needed this. Harry had told her that it was for something important, and that he needed to master the ability before going back to Hogwarts. So, each afternoon, they had gone out to the fields just beyond the Anti-Apparation wards.

Harry had been surprised to learn just how good a teacher Fleur was. Each time he'd messed up, she patiently repaired the damage and encouraged him to continue. With her help, he was able to gain control of where he Apparated to, though keeping himself from Splinching took longer. As their time had grown short, Harry worried he would never get the hang of it. There had also been an unforseen consequence in the form of Bill. Bill, it seemed, was curious to know why Harry was wandering off with his fiancee everyday. Fleur had laughed when Bill demanded an explaination, to the point that they were both glaring at her.

Once that had been straightened out, Bill offered to provide him with a few tips. These proved invaluable, as Harry was finally able to Apparate successfully without losing anything the following afternoon. Bill hadn't bothered to ask why Harry was determined to learn this. He'd merely smiled and promised once again to not reveal their secret to anyone. As he and Fleaur joined hands together, Harry couldn't help but look at them differently than before. For once, he was finally able to see how they fit together.

It had made him wonder...

Since the other portal had not been placed anywhere yet, Harry was having to rely on what skill with Apparation he had, as well as a large amount of luck. Closing his eyes, Harry pictured his destination clearly in his mind, and let the image stay there for a moment. Gathering his strength, he concentrated. For a moment, the all-too familiar sensation of his body being forced through a much-too-small tube made him grimace, but then it passed. With a jolt, Harry felt himself being forced through the invisible tube to the other side, where his feet promptly landed on solid ground.

At least, Harry thought it was solid ground until a second or so later, when his body tilted promptly to the left. The 'ground' he had Apparated onto was, as it turned out, the slanted roof of some building. It was slick from rain and snow, as well, meaning Harry had only a brief instant to contemplate where he was before he began falling off. At the roof's edge, he learned just how high up he really was, as well as how far down the ground was from there. It was far too long a fall for him to ever land safely, and with the added weight of the throw rug in his arms, Harry couldn't properly balance himself out. He was most likely going to land at a very odd angle and break something.

Like his neck, for instance!

With no other choice, Harry closed his eyes and prepared to Apparate again, just as his feet slid off the edge. Harry felt the wind whip around him as he tried to successfully picture a point to Apparate to. The only thing that came to mind was the ground, and judging by how fast he seemed to be falling, getting there was going to be no problem either way. Finally, when he was sure the ground was just a few short feet away, Harry felt his body being forced through the invisible tubing again. This time, it seemed shorter and much easier to deal with than before. There was perhaps a moment where Harry worried he had gone farther off course than before, and somehow taken himself even higher up, but then his body slammed hard in the mud.

It hurt, but nowhere near as bad as it could have if he'd fallen from the roof. Pulling himself up, Harry found to his delight that he was uninjured for the most part, save maybe his pride and overall appearance. He was covered from head to toe in mud, but that was still much better than the alternative. Quickly, he gathered up the rug and looking around. This didn't look to be any sort of Muggle village, so hopefully he wasn't too far off from his intended destination.

Sure enough, a minute or two later, Harry spotted the abandoned Zonko's shop up ahead. That meant the Four Seasons pub was just up ahead a ways. It was a good thing to, since landing in the mud had soaked his winter cloak and clothing all the way through. It was far from warm outside, and Harry had been shivering for a few minutes now. When he finally spotted the tree up ahead, it was with great relief.

Harry had wondered if the Oracle would even be around. The place was lit up like a beacon, however, as though to signal him. Every branch of the tree seemed to be alight with fairy lights, only these moved around. To his surprise, Harry saw as he approached the door that they were actual Starlight Pixies. Some of them could be heard giggling as he walked up to the door, which swung open before he could knock.

"Wipe your feet!" came a shrill voice from the inside.

Harry stayed there a moment, wondering if he should remove some of his other clothing as well.

"I said, 'Wipe your feet!'" the Oracle repeated. "I'm well aware of what you look like. That doesn't mean the niceities can't be followed. Now come inside before you catch your death of cold."

Obediently, Harry stomped the ground until his shoes were acceptably clean. Once inside, the air felt unbelievably warm and cozy. His body gave a shiver in reaction to the change in temperature, but soon began to relax. The warmth seemed to ooze inside of him, filling him up to the brim. Some of the Oracle's girls were waiting for him, and took the rug out of his hands. Harry didn't think to protest at first; he was still in a daze from coming out of the cold. To his surprise, the girls were waving their hands over his clothes, clearing away the coated mud and dirty water. None of them held a wand, yet they did this as though it were second-nature to them.

"Much better now," the Oracle nodded, once he was cleaned up. "Come and sit. The girls will put that in the back room where no one can find it. You'll be able to come and go as you please from now on."

Their eyes met, and the Oracle just shook her head at him. "I'm called the 'Oracle' for a reason, Harry."

"Right," he nodded, and sat down when she gestured to the chair in front of him.

"Also," she said, pointing up at his forehead.

Harry felt something tickle in the spot just able his eye. "What?" he wondered, running a clean finger over it.

"You were missing an eyebrow," she explained.

"Oh," was all he could think of to say.

"Now you know what the pixies were laughing about so much," she said, smiling. "Just be grateful it wasn't anything worse. I wouldn't have recommended something like an Apparation Circle were it not necessary. But please, have something to drink. It'll help shake the rest of the chills off."

At once, one of the girls placed a hot mug of steaming butterbeer down before him. Harry thanked her, earing himself a smile in return, then downed the drink. It felt amazingly good after getting turned around out in the cold streets while soaking wet. The golden liquid spread through his limbs, changing the lingering numbness in his brain to a fuzzy mellow glow.

"Take it easy," she cautioned him, when he finally set the mug down. "I brew my own butterbeer, and it's a touch stronger than what you'd normally get on the open market."

Harry just smiled, and sat back in the chair. "Right," the Oracle said, looking annoyed suddenly. "So, are you ready to begin?"

"Yes," he answered at once, straightening up slightly. "How does this work?"

"You'll see," she replied, motioning with her finger.

At once, a young girl with pink hair came forward. She'd been standing off in the shadows where Harry hadn't noticed her. In her hands was a stone bowl filled with what looked like water. At first, Harry thought it was a Pensieve, but as she drew closer, he recognized it as something else.

"This isn't your first time coming across a Gazing Bowl, is it?" the Oracle noted, as the girl set it down in front of her. "What happened when you looked into one before?"

"I..." Harry hesitated, eyeing the Bowl across from him warily. "Just... myself."

"Nothing out of the ordinary," she pressed, giving him a piercing look. "Nothing... different?"

"I was... older, I guess," he offered, uncomfortably. "And, maybe a little different. I looked..."

"Yes," the Oracle said softly, searching the surface of the water. "It's coming through now. My, but you're a handsome fellow, and dressed to kill. You look like a king, Harry Potter. Exactly like a King, in fact. And I thought keeping my girls off of you was a challenge now!"

"But, I'm not a king," Harry stammered. "I... can't be a king, can I?"

"Harry, when you were eleven years old and first learned of your wizarding heritage, what was the first thing that popped into your mind?"

Harry paused for a moment, then answered. "That I couldn't be," he admitted. "I couldn't be a wizard."

"Did you ever think to yourself that there were no such things as wizards, or magic?"

"No," he paused, thinking back. "I just... couldn't believe I was one."

"And now you don't believe that you can be a King," she pointed out. "Even though you don't disbelieve in them. Think on that for just a minute."

"I don't..." Harry hesitated, then thought his words over carefully. "I don't want to be a king, okay. I just wanted to be me, and maybe be left alone."

"Those who are special rarely get what they ask for, because so many of them ask for just that: To be left alone and not bothered. The thing is, Harry, if you don't use your gifts, there are plenty in the world who will be more than happy to. Some of them you've already made aquaintences with."

"Scrimgeour," he said at once.

"Him," she nodded, grimly. "And another. One you've just recently realized has been keeping secrets for some time."

Harry looked down at the ground. "Why him?"

"Are you really so surprised?"

"I wish it... I wanted it to be someone else," he admitted. "I wish it could've been anyone else but him. It hurts to think..."

"It always hurts," she interrupted. "The world is full of pain. A little more isn't going to stop it from turning, but in the meantime, what do you plan to do about it? Is your life so worthless that it can be manipulated by those who insist they know better? Are you doing to just sit there and let them take over, doing whatever they please, or do you plan to take control for once, and change things."

Harry didn't know how to respond to that. "Come closer, Harry," the Oracle motioned. "Look into the Gazing Bowl with me."

Slowly, as if in a trance, Harry did as she said. Sliding his chair along the floor, he moved around the table until he and the Oracle were sitting side by side. The water had grown foggy in the meanwhile, and Harry saw within it shapes that twisted and turned as though windswept. The longer he looked, the more it felt like he was being drawn in. Vaguely, he was aware of the Oracle sitting next to him, but the shapes in the swirling mist that the Bowl contained were holding his attention.

"That's..." he gasped, as the images became clear at last.

"The very first day he arrived," the Oracle told him. "He was not so different from you, once. Just a lonely boy with no parents and no family, coming from a place he didn't belong in where he was unloved, to here."

"Why are you showing me this?" he whispered breathlessly, as the eleven-year old boy Harry somehow recognized as Tom Riddle departed the Hogwarts Express for the first time, looking around timidly at the other laughing children.

"You tell me," the Oracle shrugged. "In the hands of one with the Sight, the Gazing Bowl can become a powerful tool for divination, providing not just insight into one's soul, but also glimpses of the past or future significant to the one using it."

"He looks so..." Harry said, grasping for the right word. "So... normal!"

"He is normal. A very normal and scared child about to enter a world that he has been very ill-prepared for. Just like you."

"Voldemort's sorting," Harry spoke softly, still watching the scenes unfold. "He was put in Slytherin."

"Do you know why?"

That was enough to snap Harry out of it, and look up at her. "Look again," she instructed. "You'll be able to hear what the Sorting Hat says to him."

Indeed, when Harry looked down again, he could see Tom Riddle perched atop the stool with the much-too-large hat covering nearly all of his face. Harry had a brief flicker of memory of the Hat doing the same thing to him. Then, from up out of the mist, voices could be heard.

"Came from humble beginnings," the Sorting Hat was muttering. "Razor-sharp mind, however. You've got talent nesting deep within you boy, and a thirst to use it for good. Something of a temper, but nothing out of control... So, where shall we put you?"

"It doesn't matter," Tom could be heard saying, miserably. "I really don't belong here. Everyone will just make fun of me in the end, like they always do."

"You really do believe that?" the Sorting Hat said, curious. "You're a very special boy, Tom Riddle. I think you'll be surprised at what you're capable of here at Hogwarts. You just need the right motivation to get started."

"You... you think I'm special?" Tom wondered.

"More than special," the Hat affirmed. "You could be great some day, and I think I know just the place to put you so you can learn how to deal with greatness."

"Where?" Tom shifted slightly, and the Sorting Hat nearly fell off. "How can I be great someday?"

"I'll show you," the Hat replied, smugly. "SLYTHERIN!"

Harry blinked in surprise as the scene began to fade. "The Sorting Hat, it put Voldemort in Slytherin to..."

"...To show him what he was capable of," the Oracle finished. "Does that surprise you? I would wager you had a similar experience with it, judging by your reaction just now."

"It tried to put me there," he said. Harry had never told anyone of this. Saying aloud now seemed surreal, like it was being done by someone else.

"Why did you say no?"

"Someone had told me," he explained, throat dry. "About Voldemort. About how he'd been in Slytherin. I was afraid then, afraid that I might turn out to be just like him. I was worried about all the other Dark wizards that had come from Slytherin before me. It didn't matter to me where I went, just so long as I didn't go over to their side."

"And you thought Slytherin guaranteed you a place at Tom Riddle's side?" she challenged. "Where someone starts out isn't always a guarantee where they'll end up, Harry."

"But, the Sorting Hat was right," he pointed out. "The Hat put him in Slytherin because Tom had greatness in him, just like It tried to do to me!"

"And you think being in Slytherin is what made Lord Voldemort what he is today."

Harry thought over those words for a moment. He was beginning to sound like Ron just a little bit. Hadn't he and Hermione both defended Morgan earlier that night before his escape? Looking into the Gazing Bowl had left him addled, however. Harry wasn't sure whether his reaction was the result of seeing Voldemort at such a young age, or because of how similar they really were in the beginning.

"It will pass," she said, assuringly, as if anticipating what he was thinking. "Sit down, and have another look. This will be the last one we do tonight."

Harry didn't want to, but this felt important. Somehow, the answers he'd been searching for were inside the reflected waters contained inside the Bowl. Answers he had wondered all his life, and maybe some he hadn't learned the questions to yet, as well. Harry didn't want to see more of Tom Riddle, though. Thinking of him as Voldemort, the heartless monster that murdered his parents and the parents of so many others was easy. Seeing Voldemort as a young Tom Riddle, just starting out, had shaken him.

As the misty waters began to clear, Harry saw Tom Riddle once again, this time in a crowded classroom surrounded by other students his age. Harry had no idea how much time had passed, but it looked as though he were still seeing Riddle during his first year. Riddle was engrossed with scribbling down answers on a piece of parchment as fast as he could. Around him, from what Harry could glimpse, others were doing the same. Riddle, however, was faring much better.

"Quills down!" a familar voice said firmly.

Everyone lowered their quills at the exact same time. The water swirled for a split second, but cleared again as it showed a larger image of the classroom. Harry was surprised to see the Transfiguration room, and Professor Dumbledore walking down between the rows to collect everyone's tests. Riddle's was one of the last, and as he handed the stack over to Dumbledore, he gave a very shy smile before facing his desk. Dumbledore noted this, Harry say, and returned it by patting Riddle lightly on the back.

Someone sitting close by saw this as well. A few seconds later, a piece of paper shaped like a crane sailed through the air and smacked Riddle upside the head hard, much harder than a scrap of paper should have. At first, Harry couldn't see what was written on it, but then the angle shifted, and he could read all too clearly.

_"Mud-blood!"_

To Harry's surprise, several Slytherins sitting off to the side began laughing and pointing Riddle's way. Riddle threw the paper aside with a scowl, but did nothing else. As the image withdrew more to show the whole classroom again, Harry noted how Tom sat more or less off by himself. The room was divided up between Gryffindor and Slytherin, unsurprisingly, yet it seemed that Tom was more ostricized by both than just the Gryffindor house.

Class was dismissed soon after. Before Tom could escape, Dumbledore gave him a small wave. Tom seemed to hesitate for a moment, then smiled back and quickly gestured goodbye before ducking hurriedly out the door. The Gazing Bowl showed Harry several more images of Tom Riddle's life. Most of them were a pattern of stills showing a lonely young boy sitting off by himself reading, or studying for some exam, sitting in class off away from everyone else, and being doted on by his professors. This, Harry found especially strange. Almost all of Riddle's teachers seemed to favor him, and none more so than Dumbledore, yet Tom retreated from their praise as though he didn't deserve it.

Then, the image shifted drastically. Harry felt like he were being pulled forward into the water, and instinctively grabbed the edge of the table to hold himself back. When the water ceased to churn, Harry found himself nose to nose with the surface, which settled down to reveal Tom Riddle sitting alone in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. By the light coming out of the window, it was afternoon. Apparently, Riddle was on his way home. It took Harry a moment to remember that Tom had been raised in an orphanage A lifetime ago, he'd gleaned this knowledge from a trip into a memory Riddle's preserved in his diary. Assuming it wasn't all false, Riddle would be going back to a place where no one loved or cared about him. Harry felt a pain of sympathy for a moment, then remembered he was looking at the same person who would one day ruin his life.

When the train stopped at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, there was no one standing there waiting for Riddle to get off. Harry watched as he silently waded through the sea of parents waiting with open arms to greet their children. Not once did Tom look up the whole time. Silently, he dragged his single trunk along until he'd reached the portal that lead out to King's Cross. Only then did he spare a glance back. The look in Riddle's eye was enough to finally break through Harry's defensive. In that moment, he couldn't look down and see the man who'd tried to murder him. That man didn't exist yet. All he saw was a reflection of himself crying, before ducking through the portal and out of sight.

Harry thought it was over, but then the image changed again. Tom was sitting on a bed now, with his trunk resting at the foot like it was carefully waiting to be used again. Harry was certainly looking at the same day of Riddle's life, because he was still in his Hogwarts uniform. It looked as though Tom hadn't enjoyed a warm welcome from the orphanage, either. Someone was bandaging his hand rather hurriedly. There were other bandages on him, as well, not to mention a number of bruises.

"Honestly, Tom!" a woman's voice scolded. "How can you fall down the stairs right after coming back? You know I need all the older children's help with the newborns that were left by evacuees!"

"I didn't fall down the stairs!" Tom insisted, wincing at her touch. "It was Rindle and the others. They held me down and..."

"That's enough!" she snapped at him, giving his hand a smack. "You know better than to spread lies about Rindle. I had hoped a year away at that special school or whatever such nonesense it is would have broken you of the habit. Now, you can sit here for the rest of the hour, but I expect you downstairs to give everyone else a hand cooking dinner. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Tom said in a steady voice.

The moment the woman left, Tom threw himself down on his pillow and sobbed. Harry could still hear Riddle's crying long after the image faded. When Harry raised up, the Oracle was watching him closely through her glasses while puffing away on a cigarette. He'd been too engrossed in what the Gazing Bowl was showing him to notice. Surprisingly, the smoke wasn't unpleasant, though. It reminded him of a clover field, for some reason.

"Shocking, isn't it?" she asked, letting a stream of smoke blow out the corner of her mouth.

"Why?" was all Harry could ask as he stood there, helplessly.

"Depends on what you're asking," the Oracle countered. "Some villains don't start out wicked, you know. Some have wickedness thrust upon them, and for most, if not all, it's more about the journey into darkness than the destination. But the Gazing Bowl only showed you the answer to your question. There must have been something in all of that you needed to know. Learning about your enemy is the first step towards conquering him."

"He didn't fall down the stairs," Harry said, with absolute certainty.

"No," the Oracle agreed, taking a drag. "He didn't."

She was silent for a moment as Harry sat down in his chair again. The different colors of smoke from her cigarette provided a great distraction from all the heavy thoughts running around in his head. He wondered briefly if the Gazing Bowl could work as a Pensieve for just a moment, long enough to empty his brain of a few things.

"He was handsome," the Oracle added, suddenly. "Even at that age. I think it might have been one of the reasons the others gave him such a hard time over. Riddle did possess a certain habit of charming others, even if he wasn't always aware of it. Now, there's the matter of my fee."

That got Harry's attention. The Oracle waved her hand over the surface of the water, this time conjouring up the image of a strange-looking hourglass. Harry recognized it at once as being a Time-Turner.

"I don't have to explain to you what this is," she said. "What you're looking at is a Time-Turner I once had in my possession. It was given to me for safekeeping, but then went missing. I've only just recently learned where it wandered off to. It seems someone stole it, and I would like for you to get it back. A Time-Turner in this day and age would be invaluable to the right people, especially considering the rumors about how gang of youthful rebels broke into the Department of Mysteries and destroyed every last one of them."

Harry gulped, but for once, the Oracle gave no notice of him. "Where is it?" he asked, carefully.

"Far, far away," she replied. "Getting you there isn't going to be a problem. You see, while I know more or less where the Time-Turner is being hidden, I can't seem to find it's exact location. The best I'll be able to do is help you on your way. The rest will be up to you. My advice is to trust your instincts, and take along something for your journey."

The Oracle reached into her robes and pulled out a small, golden object. Harry took it from her and examined it under the light. It reminded Harry a little bit of the pocket watch he'd seen Mad-Eye Moody carrying around once. There were all sorts of symbols engraved around the edges, but the device only had one needle. At the moment, it was spinning around rather erratically, as though whatever it was looking for had been scattered across the room.

"It should lead you straight to it," she finished, taking one last drag from her cigarette. "Now, you really should be going. Once you find the Time-Turner, use it to bring yourself back here. That way, you can still get back to Hogwarts at a somewhat reasonable hour. The last thing we need is for you to be missed."

"Right," Harry nodded, pocketing the compass-watch device. "But how am I supposed to get there?"

"Like this."

The Oracle flicked her cigarette butt at Harry, who looked down in confusion as it bounced harmlessly off his chest and onto the floor. The moment the filter connected with the hardwood floor, however, something odd happened. Black tendrils of smoke curled up from it, enveloping him. Harry opened his mouth to protest, to demand to know what was happening, but it was already too late. The smoke had swallowed him up whole, and in seconds, he felt his body spinning around as though he were trapped in a Floo Powder-powered washing machine.

When it finally stopped, Harry felt like he'd been coughed out of an angry dragon's mouth. Wind kicked up all around him, strong enough that he grabbed for the nearest thing his fingers could grip into to keep from blowing away. The air was warm in this place, unlike the icy chill he'd trudged through earlier. It would have been pleasant were he not in danger of flying away without a broomstick. Harry's grip in the stone floor was slipping. Looking around, he spotted a corner off to his left and rolled towards it.

Now out of the wind, he could stand up and look around. The moment he did, Harry felt his breathe leave him. Wherever the Oracle had sent him, he was high up. Impossibly high up, and standing on what looked like a widow's walk. The view was indescribable.

There was a door just a few steps away, close enough for Harry to run to without risking getting blown off. He had no idea how far it was to the ground, but whatever this place was, it had to be resting on top of a mountain, or at least the edge of a cliff. There was no other explaination. Harry started to move towards the door, then hesitated. The wind seemed to have died down a little, though it was still strong enough to snatch the air from his lungs. Still, he wanted to know just where exactly he was, and the best chance of that for the moment was looking off the side of the railing and straight down.

Thinking it over, Harry took a chance and dashed for the edge. Gripping the railing, he looked over the side and felt his vision swim. He hoped for a moment that what he was seeing wasn't real. After his stomach settled, he looked again, only to see the very same thing as before.

He was the balcony of some kind of castle. That was actually the easiest part to take in. From what he could tell, it was nowhere near as large as Hogwarts, and might have been able to pass as someone's manor were it not for the iron gates surrounding it. That wasn't the hardest part to take in, though. There wasn't much in the way of a yard surrounding the place, and just beyond the iron rought fence, Harry could see just how high up he really was.

He was up in the sky. Somehow, the Oracle had sent him to a castle hanging high up in the sky!


	20. Chapter 20 The Castle in the Sky

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 20

_**The Castle in the Sky**_

by Ri-kun

It took all of a second for Harry to reach the wall. Once the shock had finally worn off, he pulled himself together and took a careful look around. This place, whatever it was, was big; much larger than the Burrow, but nowhere near on par with Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hopefully, with the help of the Oracle's compass, or whatever it was, he wouldn't be here long.

Keeping his back to the wall was more out of preservation than fear. The winds were starting up again, threatening to take him off. Sticking to the shadows, Harry made his way towards the door. Finding it locked, he huddled near the glass as another gust threatened to tear him away. Of course, it would be locked. Even wizards kept their doors shut, even now more than ever thanks to the Death Eaters. Instinctively, he reached for his front pocket, then groaned in frustration. Sirius had given him a pocket knife the Christmas before last, one that would open any lock. Any magical item was still useless, though, if he forgot to take it with him.

Even with his Summoning Charm, Harry doubted it would arrive in time. The winds were not dying down, and he needed to get inside soon. Crossing his toes, he pulled his wand out and took aim for the lock.

_**"Alohamora!"**_

Nothing. The spell rebounded off the knob without it so much as jiggling. Sighing, he steadied himself again and once more took aim. At that moment, a fresh wind whipped around him, rocking his body back and forth precariously. Harry's voice cracked as the gale stole the breath from his lungs. Still, he kept his wand pointed forward. The spell rushed down from his arm to the wand without him uttering a sound. Seconds later, the glass-paneled door shattered wide open. There was just enough time to shield his face before splinters of glass were thrown right back at him.

When Harry opened his eyes again, he was bleeding. Several cuts appeared along his arm where the glass had stuck into his flesh. It wasn't serious, but he was going to have to bandage it up soon. The blood had already begun to flow freely down his arm. Clutching it, he ducked into the room beyond the balcony, glad to at least be out of the wind.

Once inside, he got a good look at his surroundings. Harry saw he was in what looked like a little girl's room. There was enough space to fit both his and Dudley's rooms in back at Privet Drive. Toys were scattered everyone, and at first glance, they clearly belonged to a young witch. A wooden hippogriff on rockers moved back and forth in a steady motion all on it's own. A doll house with a working stove blew smoke out the chimney, and inside Harry could even see dog and cat figurines chasing one another in circles. The pictures on the walls of various animals moved about in cheery meadows.

Harry turned as the door opened. A girl no older than nine came in clutching an irate-looking kneezle in her arms, which immediately hissed and spat at the sight of him. The girl herself merely paused for a second, then turned back to stick her head out into the hall behind her.

"Mum! Come quick! There's a boy in my room."

She looked back at him for a second, her eyes squinting shrewdly. "And he's bleeding."

Harry stood there dumbfounded as footsteps echoed down the corridor towards them. A much older woman burst through the door, then, and Harry knew at once than this must be her mother. Despite the gap in age, they still looked remarkably alike. In her youth, the mother had no doubt been a fine prize for any wizard. She still retained a good bit of her vitality, yet the first thing that came to Harry's mind as their eyes met was how weary she seemed. Her face, especially around the eyes in particularly, looked beaten down from hardship. Harry swallowed, then opened his mouth to explain.

He hadn't the slightest idea what to say. No reasonable excuse came to mind, and as he'd just broken into their home like a common thief, her first reaction would certainly be to call the Aurors on him.

"Reinette," the mother instructed crisply. "Fetch Nanna Hopskin for me. Tell her to bring her Healer's kit at once."

The girl glanced up at her mum, then obediently left the room. The woman slowly approached Harry cautiously, as though afraid of what he might do. Her eyes were slightly panicked, like he were a wild animal that she'd found. Harry found her reaction to him confusion, but stayed perfectly still.

"It's alright," she spoke softly, reaching out for his arm. "I just need to look at your arm. May I?"

Harry blinked, then nodded his consent. "What happened?" she asked, kneeling down to check the pieces of glass sticking out of him.

"The... glass," he stammered, unsure of what else to say. "The wind, and..."

The woman sighed, as though frustrated, and shook her head. "I had the castle moved here to afford us some privacy after..." She stopped, then began talking again, more to herself than at Harry. "Had I know the wind was so bad here, we would have gone further south. This is the third window that's broken."

She stood, then, and began to carefully remove the shards one at a time. "Don't worry," she assured him. "Reinette will be back with help soon. May I ask what your name is, stranger?"

"Harry," he answered at once, without thinking. "Harry... Potter."

If it registered with her at all, she never showed any sign. "Well then, Mr. Potter. I had hoped to not find strange men in my daughter's bedroom for a good many more years. Care to explain how you came to be bleeding on her carpet?"

"I was..." he began, thinking hard. "I had Apparated. It was for practice, and I guess I got thrown off course. I wound up on the balcony, and then the wind started. I'm so sorry about the door. I can repair it."

"After Nanna Hopskin has a look at you. I'm no Healer, but this arm needs to be looked at before you do anything."

As if on cue, the girl named Reinette came trotting back with a squat woman behind in tow. Harry was at once reminded of Madame Pomfrey. Tucked under her arm was a small, narrow chest which she immediately opened at Harry's feet. Inside were a number of different vials of potions, along with powders and salves all colors and sizes. She at once seized Harry's cut arm and began removing the remaining glass from it. After expecting it closely for any remains, she then rubbed a stinging powder on his arm that caused the bleeding to stop at once. Following that, she began meticulously applying drops of cream from a vial dug out from the bottom of the chest. Harry watched closely with facination as each wound closed up.

"Much better," the mother praised, giving the elder woman a nod. "That will be all, Hopskin. Thank you."

"Yes," Harry added, before she could leave. "Thank you very much."

"Now," the mother added, eyeing Harry wryly. "I believe there's still the matter of the broken door?"

"Oh." Harry blushed, and turned back towards his handiwork. _**"Repairo!"**_

The pieces of shattered glass and broken wood sprung up off the floor into the air, and fitted themselves back at once. "Impressive," she commented, when he was done. "I wonder what else you can do."

The girl snickered, as if her mother had just make a enormous joke, then looked up at Harry knowingly. "Please, come with us downstairs. My sons will be arriving home shortly, and I think we'd all enjoy hearing more about you."

Harry hesitated for a moment, then followed after them both. The girl called Reinette stayed behind to walk alongside him. As the two of them made their way along through the castle manor, she looked up at him several times to smile cheekily. This made him a little uncomfortable, but he returned it. It was a feeling of deja vu to him. Harry couldn't help but compare her to the first time he'd met Ginny. This girl didn't strike him as the crying type, yet he sensed similarities between her and the crying red-head that chased after the Hogwarts Express so desperately that first time he was on board it.

Reinette led him into a dining chamber with a very narrow but opulent table. Reinette's mother was standing behind one of the throne-like chairs, leaning forwards expectantly as he entered the room.

"Good," she declared. "It seems both my sons came home early for once. I just received word that they've arrived, and should be here momentarily. Once everyone gets settled down, we can all enjoy dinner together. How does that sound to you, young Harry?"

"Good," he answered quickly. "Good. Um, thank you."

"It's no trouble," she smiled coyly. "You obviously come from Gryffindor, and what sort of host would I be if I didn't offer a fellow member of my house asylum?"

Her hand stroked lightly over the front of the chair as she spoke, taking the time to caress the carved lion's head embedded there. "Our entire family has been in Gryffindor," she went on after a moment. "Generations of them, in a long line going back for ages. It pleases me to see that old hat hasn't lost it's touch in keeping the house fresh with fine stock."

The way she kept talking about Gryffindor was making Harry uncomfortable. From the words she used, he had the impression she was comparing it to a breeding ground for the magical community. Suddenly, Harry was reminded of the way the Malfoys always spoke when they were talking about Slytherin. The same manical reverence shined in the woman's eyes the whole time.

Harry was spared from saying anything in response by the sound of laughter approaching. Heavy footfalls belonging to more than one person echoed through the room seconds before the twin-sided doors sprang open. A quartet of boys roughly the same age as him stormed through. The one in the lead, a wild-looking young man with hair a golden blonde and a body shaped like it was crafted from iron, was currently guffawing at some joke the one slightly behind in step from him had just said. This one was obviously one of the woman's two sons. Their faces were nearly identical, varying only enough to show that he was indeed male. Both he and the blonde god had shoulder-length hair that flowed back behind them almost like capes. The two in back lingered farther behind, enough that Harry didn't get a good look at them.

"Mutti!" the blonde one exclaimed, throwing his arms around her neck. "It is so good to see you again!"

"Gellert!" Reinette's mother hugged him in return, then immediately threw her arms around the second boy. "And Albus! It's about time the four of you made it home. Come, I want you all to meet our guest for dinner."

The three of them moved enough for Harry to see the others standing behind off to the side. One was rather short, a little younger than the others and obviously still caught in that period of growth stage where he wasn't quite overweight but not exactly thin, either. He seemed content to remain out of the spotlight. The taller one, on the other hand, was looking down at his feet rather sulkily. He was a good head taller than anyone else in the room, yet Harry noticed his hair color was the exact same as that of Reinette's brother, Albus. Also, he kept glaring up every few minutes towards Reinette's mother and two brothers, as though they were each guilty of something. Once, his eyes met with Harry's. Harry felt something go through him, but then the other boy quickly looked away.

"This is Harry," Reinette's mother was introducing him, meanwhile. "He seems to have had a bit of an accident during a trial Apparation run. I invited him to stay with us, since he seems to be in the same house as you and your brother, Albus."

"Hello," Albus waved to him, cheerfully. "Nice of you to drop in."

"Thanks," he replied. Harry was used to people's scruttiny of him by now. Both boys were doing a poor job of hiding their open stares at his scar, yet neither of them acted as though they recognized him. This, more than anything, left him feeling as though he were missing something obvious.

"Sorry, Mum," Albus went on. "I don't recognize him. He could just be in one of the other dorm rooms, but I think I would've remembered a face like that."

Albus was openly watching Harry as he said this. "Da," Gellert added, nodding. "Especially with that scar of his."

"Don't be rude," Reinette's mother admonished, gently. "Come, let's sit down and have dinner. I'm anxious to hear what you boys have been up to at school."

Dinner was a formal affair. Though the castle was decorated as though the family had wealth beyond even Harry's considerable means, the food was surprisingly sparce. Everyone dined on a single bowl of soup with cheese and wine that was magically summoned in front of them at the same time. Though it tasted very well, Harry again felt as though something obvious was staring him in the face. Ignoring it, he downed his soup as politely as possible alongside Reinette, who kept a close eye on him the whole time. She'd been adamant about sitting next to him, keeping a chair between him and Albus.

Everyone was very curious about whether he enjoyed his year at Hogwarts, and how he liked being in Gryffindor overall. Gellert, as it turned out, was attending Durmstrang, but always came home to visit during the holidays. To Harry's surprise, he and Albus were in fact not brothers, but merely good friends. Gellert's own parents were long gone, and Reinette's family had met him years ago before Albus' first year while staying at their ancestral home in Godric's Hollow. Harry nearly choked at the mention of the place.

"Sorry," he apologized, wiping his mouth. "It's just... I've never met anyone else from there before."

"Really?" Albus' curosity was peaked. "Were you born there?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But my parents... were killed there when I was a baby. It was so long ago that I barely remember it."

"I'm so sorry," his mother whispered, looking shocked. "We shouldn't have even brought it up."

"No, don't," Harry assured her, quickly. "It was years ago. It's alright, really."

"A terrible thing, though," she went on. "For any child to lose even one parent."

A thick air of despair settled in over the table suddenly. Reinette promptly dropped her soup spoon and dashed out of the room crying. Harry looked after her in confusion, then turned towards everyone else.

"What's wrong?" he wondered. "Did I say something?"

"No," her mother replied. "Sorry, that was my own fault. My husband..."

"That's enough, mother," the tall younger man broke in, glaring towards Harry as though he were at fault. "There's no reason for him to know any more. Besides, if he really attends Hogwarts, he would have heard about it by now."

The rest of dinner was conducted in silence. Harry felt like he was the oddball left standing at the front of class, being mocked and ridiculed by Dudley's gang, and wanting desperately to fade from sight. Once more, he missed bringing his Invisibility Cloak. He could feel the eyes of everyone staring his way every few minutes. It should not have bothered him, since he'd done nothing. Perhaps it was just that he felt for Reinette more than any of the others, and how her empty chair seemed to draw his own eyes towards it each time the daggers Albus' brother was throwing his way pierced the back of his head.

Kendra, it was finally revealed to be her name, rose first, prompting the others to quickly leap up from their seats. Harry followed along, noting that the smallest boy on the end near Albus' brother was still not finished eating.

"Enjoy, Elphias," she told him, curtly. "Take the bowl to the house-elf when you are finished. As for the rest of you, I must see to Reinette. Harry, if you would, we would all be honored if you'd consider staying for the night."

"Oh, I couldn't..."

"I insist," she cut him off, then took a deep breath. "We so rarely get company anymore."

"Alright then," he agreed, glancing around the room. No one rose their voice in protest. "Thank you, really."

"This way," she instructed, leading him out of the room.

He thought he heard one of the others whispering once they left. It sounded like arguing, but someone quickly hissed at the others and the room fell silent. Harry followed Kendra up to the far side of the castle facing the western sky. The more they walked, the darker the castle seemed to grow. Not all of it was well-lit, apparently. Certain areas seemed to have fallen into disrepair, as well. Harry nearly tripped over a crack in the floor as they approached what he assumed was to be his room for the night.

"Careful," Kendra warned him. "We wouldn't want you hurting yourself. Not over something like that, anyway."

Swallowing, Harry followed her through the door into a dusty room that hadn't been used in some time. Kendra lay the candle she'd been carrying down on a nearby dresser, then pulled out her wand. He watched as she lit every torch in the room at once with buth a wave, then turned to speak with him directly.

"So," she said crisply. "Have you heard the rumors?"

The anger in her voice caught Harry by surprise. "I don't know what you're talking about," he promised her, backing away slightly. "What rumors?"

"It seems hard to believe that someone in Gryffindor tower wouldn't know about the scandal our family has had to endure. Especially if they've attended school for as long as you should have. Do you really attend Hogwarts?"

"Yes," he nodded. "The Sorting Hat put me in there. I stood in front of the whole feast."

"Who is the headmaster, then?"

That should have been obvious. "Albus Dumbledore."

Kendra's eyes widened, as if he'd slapped her. "I assure you, young man. If this is your idea of a joke, it is in poor taste!"

Kendra put a hand up to her head, and in the light of the room, he realized she was crying. "I'm sorry," she whispered softly, before he could say anything. "I suppose I had that coming to me. Forgive me, but these have not been the best of times for my family and I. My husband is... no longer with us, you see."

"I had guessed," he admitted. "What happened?"

"There was a duel," she answered, looking away. "Of sorts, anyway. Both my sons have tried to keep their heads held up high amidst all of this, though it hasn't been easy for them. Albus is the clever one, so I imagine that has spared him some of the crueler taunts, but his brother bears the worst of it. I can only imagine how much worse it will be for Reinette when she finally enrolls. I've seriously considered having her tutored, but that might not be possible, either."

Harry had remained quiet as she went on, letting her vent. "I know what it's like to feel as though everyone at school is against you," he told her. "More than once, actually. The first time was during the Triwizard Tournament. Everyone assumed I had entered my name in the Goblet of Fire."

"You were in the Triwizard Tournament?" Kendra broken in, clearly shocked. "My, my, but you are something indeed. How could none of us have heard of you before now? Are you putting me on again?"

Kendra laughed then, and before long, Harry was chuckling along with her. "Well," she breathed, after calming down. "I'm afraid it's getting a bit on for me. Goodnight to you, Harry. If you should decide to take advantage of our hospitality for a little while longer, I'm sure my boys wouldn't complain too much. Reinette certainly seems to have taken a shine to you, for one thing, and we certainly don't see enough visitors these days."

"I'll think on it," he promised. "I'll even try to use the doors this time."

"That's very good!" she laughed again, giving his arm a squeeze. Kendra held him in her grasp, feeling the taut muscle there for a long moment, then reluctantly let go. She left Harry alone in the room with sweat running down his forehead, and his heart pounding. That, and his wand poking him uncomfortably in the leg.

At least, he hoped it was just his wand.

*****

Harry lay on top of the bed, his eyes wide open. There was no way of knowing how much time had passed, other than the slow dripping of candle wax. The only timepiece in the whole room was the small pocket watch the Oracle had given to him before sending him on this journey. It's dials and planets were meaningless to him, but it must have been several hours, at least. Hopefully soon, it would provide him with some clue as to where he could find the missing Time-Turner. This far back in the castle, silence filled the air. He hadn't heard anything aside from the wind outside and the sounds of the old manor settling, nothing that suggested the others had gone to bed already. He would give it a few more minutes, then go searching.

Of course, he had no idea where to look. The castle was big, and looking on his own could take days, or even weeks, unless he could work out how the watch was supposed to help him. As he lay there clutching it in the candlelight, the sound of footsteps could be heard coming down the hall outside the door. Harry quickly stuffed the watch back into his robes and shut his eyes. A knock at the door a moment later forced him to climb out of bed. He heard snickering on the other side just before he opened it.

"Harry!" the boy called Albus called out to him from the other side. "Harry, are you awake?"

Harry opened the door to find Albus standing there, fully dressed, and wearing a smirk on his face that would've done the Weasley twins proud. "Sorry if I woke you, but you need to come with me."

"What's wrong?" he wondered, closing the door behind him.

"You'll see," Albus promised, still chuckling to himself. "This way, hurry. The others are already downstairs."

Reluctantly, Harry followed after him, wondering what was going on. The castle looked much more ominous now with it dark outside. Though he might have compared certains areas of it to Hogwarts during the day, there was none of the warmth he'd always associated towards the magic school. This place felt hollowed out by tragedy and secrets, like something out of Privet Drive. Harry was reminded of what Kendra had said concerning her husband just a few hours ago. By the way Albus was acting as he led them past the dining area and farther down, they might as well have been on their way to a midnight party.

"We have to hold our meetings here," Albus explained, pointing Harry ahead of him down a darkened corridor filled with rows of armor on each side. "Mother wouldn't approve if she knew, and little Reinette could never keep a secret for very long. The others weren't sure about inviting you in, but I put in a good word for you, so it should be okay. This whole thing is really Gellert and my doing, anyway, so don't let anything my brother says get to you."

With that, Albus took the lead again. Harry trailed after him down a dark staircase lit by more hanging torches. At the bottom was a heavy wooden door wrought with an iron latch that would've weighed enough to knock Harry down if someone tossed it at him. Albus gave the latch a tap with his wand, then stepped back as the door swung open on it's own towards him.

Gellert, Elphias, and Albus' as-of-yet unnamed brother were all sitting around a table waiting for him. Whatever meeting Harry had stumbled into was being conducted in a wine cellar of sorts, though how a room like this existed in a castle that hung in the sky, Harry wasn't sure. This might have phased him long ago, but his experience at Hogwarts had long since convinced him that there were some magics that didn't always require an explaination of. The meeting had apparently started without them, but everyone waited while Albus carefully selected a bottle from one of the shelves and poured a glass for Harry.

"Honeydew wine," he explained, topping the glass off. "Brewed by cornish pixies over a hundred and twenty-two years ago. Drink up with our compliments."

"Quit trying to impress him," Albus' brother growled. "I'm still not convinced he should be here. Not that I plan to go along with any of you and Gellert's delusions of graneur, but if he decided to talk to the wrong people, we would all be in serious danger. And this family has seen enough tragedy for one lifetime."

"Quit trying to be so melodramatic, Alberforth," Albus ordered, shaking his head. "Harry won't tell anyone. Besides, I like the look of him."

Alberforth made some sort of comment that sounded like 'you would', but fell silent. "Danke for joining us tonight, Harry," Gellert said, addressing him fully for the first time. "The Order of the Phoenix could always use new blood for it's purpose. Especially someone wit such obvious talents as jorself."

"The Order of the..."

"Phoenix," Gellert finished for him. "Albus' idea, really. I must admit, though, the title does have some merit to it. A symbol revered throughout many cultures of wizard origin, representing new life and rebirth. Albus here is facinated by dem. The phoenix emblems what we wish to accomplish in za world together."

"What the two of you hope to accomplish," Alberforth corrected, butting in again. "Elphias and I still haven't agreed to go along with it."

"But we are so close," Albus protested, looking towards his brother desperately. "Elphias, you understand what we're trying to do here, right?"

Elphias remained silent. "We are closer than you think," Gellert told them, grinning wryly. "For I finally was able to procure from your old relative living in Saarland an object of his that I think will finally turn ze tide to our cause."

Albus actually paled a little. "You didn't."

"Albus, what is he talking about?" Alberforth demanded.

"Just this," Gellert said, and pulled out from underneath his shirt a small hourglass on a gold chain. Harry's heart leaped up into his throat at the sight of the Time-Turner he'd been sent to steal. At the same moment, the watch in the folds of his robe began to vibrate softly against his leg. He could actually feel the gears and dials spinning fast enough to hum softly. No one else seemed to notice, however.

"You would think something this priceless would be under lock and key," Gellert went on, now holding the entire room's attention. "But your great-uncle had practically left it lying out on ze counter, waiting for someone to come along and swipe."

"Is this wise, though?" Elphias asked, speaking out at last. "Time travel of any sort is highly dangerous, and without Ministry permission, we would all surely be sent to Azkaban for the rest of our lives."

"If not given the Dementor's Kiss outright," Alberforth agreed. "Albus, how could you even think about going along with this?"

"Ze Time-Turner is key to our locating the Four Hallows," Gellert insisted, putting it away. "Albus searched through your school library all year, but there have been no recent sightings of these objects of power in years. Their last know whereabouts were recorded centuries ago, and ze details are very vague about what occured afterwards. If there are no clues to lead us to them now, we must return to them in the past in order for the Order to possess them. The Hallows must be retrieved in order to preserve our way of life."

"His plan is a bold one," Elphias said, speaking to Alberforth, mostly. "But for all we know, the Hallows weren't seen in all this time because the Order of the Phoenix succeeded in taking them. Perhaps this is proof we were destined to do this."

"You're falling farther into their mad schemes," Alberforth derided. "Fine, go with them, but don't blame me when this all comes crashing down around you. Who will be there for mother when the rest of you are rotting in Azkaban alongside father?"

"Would you not wish for your father's return?" Gellert pleaded, holding the Time-Turner out again for Alberforth to see. "With this, we could free your father from the crime he was so unjustly sentenced to. What more, we could avenge your whole family's name by punishing the Muggles who testified against him."

"Alberforth," Albus begged. "I miss father desperately. Why do you think I agreed to do any of this? Even if people die, don't you think it's for the greater good?"

Alberforth reached his hand out, then. For a moment, it hung there just inches away from the Time-Turner. Gellert seemed to be offering it to him. "You could use it first," he said. "Take it, and rescue the very man who was like a father to me, as well. Like you and Albus, I miss him fiercely. I want to save him, save so many who the Ministry condemned for disagreeing with them. Those Muggles, they attacked your mother without just cause. Your father was only defending her honor, but the Ministry refused to believe any of your testimony. They deserve all that we can give to them."

Alberforth clenched his fist then, and withdrew without taking the Time-Turner. "I can't," he whispered, a single tear rolling down his face. "I just... can't."

It was now or never. Harry closed his own hand down on the watch and pulled it out. Opening it, he saw the topmost star turned directly towards the Time-Turner. The other planets began spinning out of their placeholds, moving directly underneath it, until they formed a straight line. When this happened, the top part of the watch raised up, revealing a hidden compartment underneath. Harry looked, and saw it was filled with a strange black fog that rose slowly out, waving tendrils in the air.

He looked up, and saw that everyone was now watching him closely, bemused by what he was holding. The watch suddenly turned white-hot, too hot for his naked hands to hold. Harry threw it down without thinking on the table. As if on cue, the smoke within it burst forth, blanketing the entire cellar. Harry heard people shouting around him, wondering what was going on. Something up ahead of him caught his eye, however.

It was the Time-Turner. Somehow, even in the completely black room, it was glowing. Gellert still had it out in his hand, and it shined like a beacon for Harry. Everyone else stumbled around, crying 'Lumos' over and over again. Either their wands couldn't work properly in this, or it was somehow absorbing all the light, except for the small speck just a few feet away. The way everyone was acting, nobody else could see it.

Harry lunged over the table and snatched it out of Gellert's hands. Gellert gave a shout, but Harry was already reaching for the door. Luck was still with him, because he found it in two seconds, while the others were still smashing bottles in an attempt to locate him. Once he stepped through the door, Harry could see again. Up the stairs he dashed, with the sounds of the Order's confused shouting trailing up after him. As he rounded the corner at the top step, the wall just above his head shattered with the force of a violent spell. Glancing back, he saw Gellert standing at the mouth of the open door, wand raised and eyes blazing with fury.

Harry took off as fast as his legs could carry him. The others could be heard not far behind. It seemed no one cared anymore about whether they would wake the rest of the castle up or not. Spells flew around him, one landing squarely on his left shoulder blade, buring badly. Harry managed to stay on his feet and kept going, turning back around just long enough to pull his own wand out and perform a quick Shielding Charm, which blocked a few more. The armor that had remained stationary in the same corridor as the stairs was now following after him, too. The whole castle was now on alert.

Harry climbed a set of stairs that led into two seperate corridors. Taking the right path, he found himself cornered by a set of gargoyle statues. As they bore down him him, the floor gave out from under him, just as their stone fingers would have closed around his neck. Thankfully, he didn't fall far. Harry shook off the pain and struggled to his feet, looking around in confusion as he did so.

"This way!" someone called out.

Harry looked up to see Reinette at the end of the shadowy hallway, her head sticking out from an open doorway. She was motioning to him urgently. "Hurry up!" she insisted. "The others know where that passage leads to, so we don't have much time!"

Harry ran forward, wondering if this was such a good idea the whole time. Reinette slammed the door behind him the minute he stepped inside. They were standing in an old room that oddly enough looked like Dumbledore's office. Some of the items lying around idly Harry thought he'd seen before. Reinette, meanwhile, pulled out a wand of her own and locked the door behind them.

"That won't hold them for long," she said severely. "Did you get it?"

"Get what?"

"The time travel device. I know you were sent here to steal it."

Her eyes were practically drilling into him. "How did you..."

"I had a dream of you," she said quickly, eyeing the door. "You were sent here by someone in the future to take the Time-Turner to them, so they can help you win a war. All of this was in my dream. That's why I know you need to leave now. If you don't, the others will use it to damage time itself. Please leave now, before they figure out I was the one who let you escape."

"Why are you helping me, though?" he asked, even as he took the Time-Turner out. "I don't understand. This has nothing to do with you."

"It has everything to do with you, Harry Potter," she said, her voice barely audible now. "And I know what will happen if you don't return to your time now with that. Please, just go. None of them will harm me. My brother won't let them."

Harry nodded, and looked at the Time-Turner carefully. It didn't seem very different from the one he and Hermione had used before. From the way Gellert and the others had talked, this one could travel through years or centuries, and not just hours. Harry hung the chain around his neck, and began turning the device. He had no idea how many times he needed to flip it, or even if moving through time was necessary. Somehow, Reinette seemed to know, and nodded finally after what felt like his hundredth turn.

"That's it," she said, confidently. "Just picture yourself back in your dorm room. The Time-Turner can do the rest."

Something dawned on Harry, as he heard them coming down the hallway outside. "You have a wand?" he asked.

"My father gave it to me before he was taken away to Azkaban," Reinette replied, spinning it with practice between her fingers. "He thought I was best suited for it. Mum doesn't know, and I doubt either of my brothers would be pleased if they found out. I can handle them, though. You get out of here."

"Thank you, Reinette," he said, and let go of the hourglass.

The last thing he heard before it swept him up and away into the darkness was her voice. "No one will remember you. I'll make them forget, but you and I will see each other again someday, Harry Potter."

Seconds later, he opened his eyes and found himself back in the dorm. Neville's snores difted through the curtains of his bed. Ron's were wide open, and in the moonlight, Harry could easily see that it was empty. He had a sneaky suspicion as to why, but couldn't be bothered to care enough right now. All Harry wanted to do at the moment was sleep. He doubted very much that would happen, given how wide awake he felt.

Slipping out of his robes, he laid back on the bed. Something pressed against his face, and as he raised up, Harry saw that it was a slightly crumpled envelope addressed to him. Only then did he remember that he was supposed to have taken the Time-Turner back to the Oracle. It was still hanging around his neck against his bare skin. The Oracle, however, was once more a step ahead of him. Harry tore open the letter and found her next set of instructions.

_Congradulations on your first successful mission. _

_I will let you know when your next assignment is. _

_Until then, you can keep the Time-Turner._

_"Get some sleep._

Harry stuck the letter up under his pillow and lay back down. He didn't remember falling asleep, but suddenly the morning sun was coming up through the window. It was early enough that Neville was still snoring away. Ron was still out, apparently, so Harry turned over to go back to bed. Unfortunately, sleep evaded him now. His mind had filled up at some point with everything he'd witnessed in that floating castle. Sooner or later, he was going to have to talk with Dumbledore about some things. Whether or not the headmaster answered him truthfully was still debatable, but at this point, Harry felt as though he had little choice in the matter now. The Oracle had shown him many things concerning Tom Riddle, and left him with more questions.

Again.

Harry was beginning to notice a trend there.


	21. Chapter 21 Legend of the Four Hallows

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 21

_**The Legend of the Four Hallows**_

by Ri-kun

The week was nearly over, thankfully. Harry wasn't sure he could take much more of this. At the moment, his arm was killing him. The burn mark on his left cheek stung worse than a bite from one of Hagrid's old Blast-Ended Skrewts, and his leg still felt numb. Needless to say, the latest meeting of the Defense Association hadn't gone well.

Ginny was helping him along up to the hospital wing. He'd insisted on doing it himself, but after nearly falling twice when his leg abruptly decided to no longer support his weight, he finally swallowed his pride and allowed her to lead him along. It was embarassing, but Ginny was being a good sport about it. More to the point, she'd used her weight to keep him from slumping over when he nearly rolled back down the stairs. The numbness in his leg was getting much worse, and becoming more frequent. Hopefully, Madame Pomfrey could sort it out. She'd never failed before.

On top of all his other injuries, Harry had a headache. This was more due to Ron and Hermione arguing with each other the whole week than anything physical. At first, he'd hope this was nothing more than just another of their little spats. Since they'd begun dating, Harry had expected things like this to occur. As the week went on, however, he'd begun to wonder. Things had really taken a turn for the worse an hour ago while they were practicing some advanced combat spellcasting Harry had worked out when he should have been sleeping. That was another problem. With so much on his mind, he was finding less and less time to relax.

As if on cue, the Time-Turner tucked underneath his robes pressed into his chest. The cool metal served yet again to remind him of how he could change all that. Harry had made it a point to keep the device close to him at all times. Remembering his third year and what Hermione had said, it seemed like the lesser of the two evils to wear it around his neck than risk someone coming upon it by accident in his dorm. All manner of horrible things had flashed across his eyes when he'd first debated on putting it in his trunk. Wearing it only meant he was constantly aware of the power it gave him.

Harry had thought a lot about his parents this past week. His parents, and his godfather, Sirius. With the Time-Turner, it was within his ability to save them. He could travel back to the night in Godric's Hollow and stop Voldemort from murdering them both. He could turn time back to just before Sirius sailed through the black Veil. He might even be able to put a stop to Voldemort years before, so that none of this had to happen...

It was a lot to take in, and it all felt way too simple. That was the only thing that'd kept him from using it. He'd nearly given in to temptation several times throughout the day, but something always stopped him at the last second. Something about this wasn't right. For one thing, the Oracle had asked him to retrieve it for her. Harry still wondered if she was really helping him, or just using him to get something she needed. If the Time-Turner was that, then she wouldn't need him anymore. That shouldn't have bothered him, but then he thought of the vision she'd showed him in the Gazing Bowl of a young Tom Riddle. Like it or not, she had information he needed. It seemed doubtful at this point that he'd ever find anything out from someone else. For all he knew, this was just a trap the Oracle had set to test him.

When they reached the Hospital Wing, Ginny opened the door for him while helping Harry support himself. His leg had given out on him entirely now, leaving him with little other option but to lean on her. Silently, she helped him over to one of the beds. Then, after he was settled, Ginny busied herself by pulling down various bottles and wrappings. Madame Pomfrey was nowhere to be found.

"I've been helping out Madame Pomfrey a lot all year," she explained, when Harry had looked at her strangely. "It's been rought, especially since the DA has become an official club now and we're not hiding anymore."

"How come I've never seen you up here?" he wondered, as she laid out the bottles in a row, then drew her wand. "And don't you have O.W.L.s?"

"O.W.L.s aren't so bad," she replied, taking a look at his leg first. "Luna took hers over the summer so she could be moved up a year. She's been helping me out a lot. Kind of like how you use the Marauder's Manual, really? Hold still, by the way."

Harry did as she asked, feeling nervous for some reason. His leg was swollen and looked an awful shade of purple. A few minutes later, however, Ginny had the swelling reduced almost completely, and began pouring a glass of some bubbling red liquid for him to drink.

"Take this," she ordered. "It'll take the rest of the swelling down and make the leg look normal. You should probably avoid putting pressure on it for a few minutes. Now, let me have a look at your burn."

Harry obediently turned his head so she could see it. Ginny held his head in her hands very professional-like, studying it for a moment before reaching for a different bottle, this one filled with a violet-colored cream.

"It won't take much. This is supposed to be used for major burns, like the kind Charley gets when he's dealing with dragons. Just a drop should clear it up. You wouldn't want to have any other scars on your face, after all."

As Ginny dabbed the cream lightly over his cheek, she continued talking. "To answer your next question, you don't see me up here because you haven't been sent up to the Hospital Wing like you used to. Madame Pomfrey was talking about it before. She keeps going on about how you'd usually spend two weeks in here recovering from something or another. Every time the door opened, she kept expecting it to be you. I think your staying out of trouble is making her a little paranoid. She thinks since you've been steering clear of danger, the next time they bring you up here will be because you've been killed."

"Good thing she wasn't around," Harry said, jokingly. "What made you decide to help out?"

"Nothing, really," she answered, evasively. "I've given thought to becoming a Healer someday. It seems like it would be a good idea, especially for when I join the Order. I mean, I'd really rather be out there fighting alongside everyone else, but Fred and George would never allow it. I didn't mention any of this to Mum, because she's bad enough as it is."

Harry couldn't argue with that. "But I let it slip once to Fred that I was wondering about what I could be good for once I'm old enough to join. He and George both went ballistic. It was like listening to Mum talking twice as much at the same time."

Ginny laughed at that, and Harry joined her. "This seemed like the best way to still join up and keep them platicated. I don't want you to think I'm leaving the DA or anything, but Dumbledore will probably let me join the Order even if everybody protests, if I can stay out of the front lines. In case, you know, you haven't beaten Voldemort yet..."

Harry stiffened. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" she asked, carefully.

"My arm," he told her, lifting it just a little. "I don't know what happened, but one of the stray curses must have hit it."

"Sounds about right," Ginny nodded. "Can you take your shirt off?"

Harry froze, then shook his head, glad that the burn on his cheek made it impossible for her to notice he was blushing. "If I move it more than that, the pain becomes unbearable. It hurts bad enough just leaving it there."

"No problem," she said, pulling her wand out again. "This won't hurt a bit."

Ginny pressed the tip of her wand lightly against the front of his robes. Moving it upwards first, she cut the fabric open without uttering a sound. When his collor was sliced in half, she then moved back down to the top of his waste. His sleeves were next, and she was mindful, he noted, to not move his arm anymore than necessary the whole time. Before long, Harry was laying bare-chested in front of her. Ginny keep her eyes away from him as she disposed of the tattered remains of his robes.

"You'll have to order some more," she told him. "No way I can fix them..."

"Ginny."

"Maybe McGonagal can send away for some more..."

"Ginny."

"I'm just glad..."

"Ginny!"

Ginny looked at him, then. Holding his arm, Harry raised up out of the bed and climbed out of it. Ginny remained frozen where she was the whole time, her eyes fixed on Harry's naked chest. She swallowed hard as he stood in front of him, and looked away. Harry caught her chin in his hand, however, and held her gaze.

"I'm sorry," he told her.

"Harry," she mumbled, weakly. "You're arm... You're leg. You're not supposed to be on it."

"It doesn't hurt, Ginny." Harry watched as she tired desperately to avoid staring at him. He wasn't holding her too hard. It would've been a piece of cake for Ginny to pull herself away, or whip her wand out and hex him all over again.

"I should have said it a long time ago," he went on, when she didn't speak. "I never meant for it to happen. It wasn't something I ever expected, but..."

"Nothing," Ginny cut him off, flatly. "She got there first, fair and square."

"But you were hurt, and I basically ignored that. There were reasons for it, but now when I look back on it, that was still unfair of me."

"We were friends, Harry," she insisted, looking mad about something other than him. "That was more than I had for a long time. Just because..."

Ginny trailed off, then glared up at him. "What did I say about staying off your leg for a little while?" she glared, sounding remarkably like Molly Weasley just then. "Lay back down so I can take care of your arm. Madame Pomfrey will be back soon, and I doubt she'd be happy to see me taking over around here."

"You'd been helping her," Harry pointed out, stretching out on the bed again. "What's the problem?"

"I was an assistant, doing little more than passing things to her when she needed them," Ginny admitted, smirking. "When she wasn't around, though, I started reading through some of her books. When she wasn't around and people came in, I started helping out more. Madame Pomfrey still doesn't know, as far as I can tell."

Both of them laughed at that. "Can you believe all this started because Morgan offered to show Hermione how to duel properly under heavy fire?"

Harry nodded. "I know! I was over in the corner showing Neville and Luna the new charm technique when all hell broke loose. They'd been helping each other out a lot with DA spells, but needed me to point out what to do after the crossfire started. Suddenly, Ron is screaming for Morgan to keep his hands to himself. Then, the fight broke out."

"Luna and Neville have been spending a lot of time together," Ginny hinted, lifting his arm. "And Ron's been a right prat lately. I've been saying to Hermione how she should just leave if he doesn't straighten up."

"I just can't picture that, for some reason. It always seemed like those two were going to get together sooner or later."

"Maybe," Ginny admitted. "But now that they have, it all seems like it's going wrong. Maybe two people that fit together perfectly in theory don't really have anything in common with one another. If Hermione dumps Ron before our next Quidditch match, though, he's going to be a total wreck. I just hope she never lets slip how it was her spell that kept him on the team over Bloodguard."

"Would that ever be a disaster," Harry agreed, gravely.

"Speaking of which," Ginny added, as she got around to mending his arm. "Did you know that Bloodguard is still going around telling everyone that he belongs on the Gryffindor team?"

"That doesn't surprise me. Actually, I overheard him saying something along those lines one afternoon after Transfiguration. He kept comparing the way Ron played to one of the Harpies. A couple of girls laughed at it, but I really don't see any problem. It isn't as though he'll ever get to play."

"Thank goodness," she breathed, then pronounced him with a clean bill of health. "You should take it easy over the next few days. Honestly, I wouldn't object to you taking a week off altogether."

"I'll be fine," he assured her, touched by her concern.

"Seriously, Harry. You've been going through school, being Quidditch captain, Assistant Dark Arts Teacher, and leader of the DA..."

_Not to mention working under the Oracle now_, he thought.

"I hate to say this, but if you hadn't found the Marauder's Manual when you did, the work load would've crushed you. You're pushing yourself way too hard, and lately, it seems like you've had something on your mind. Have you been sleeping well lately?"

She would have to be this perceptive now. "I've just been thinking a lot lately," he lied, feeling bad for it. "It feels like we've all be hurtling towards something, and the only thing I can do is just sit here while the rest of the world fights."

Ginny hesitated, then placed a hand on his still-bare shoulder. "Everyone feels that way, Harry. I think that's why the whole DA has been so on edge recently. We all want to do something, but right now, the only thing we can do is wait. It's affecting all of us."

"And making some of us crazy," he added, thinking of Ron. "I still have to apologize to Professor Darkholme for the fight that broke out."

"She didn't look angry at you when we left," Ginny pointed out, running a finger absent-mindedly along his skin. "If it had been Snape, we would've never left the room in the shape we were in. He'd have done something much worse."

Harry could only agree. Being without Snape for a year had been one of the best parts of this year, even as hectic as it was. Thinking about it that way made him feel slightly guilty. A number of students were looking grim as of recently. There had been several more attacks, this time on areas that were filled with Muggles. A number of students had relatives in that area, though, and even one pure-blood Hufflepuff came out and stated that a woman that'd been found dead in her home, a victim of the Advada Kedavra curse, was an old family friend.

It was what had made him push himself so hard. All Harry had thought about in nearly a year was the prophecy, how he supposedly was the only one who could destroy Voldemort, and what he could do to survive.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Ginny asked, shaking him out of his morbid thoughts. "You looked really distracted for a minute there."

"Nothing," he said hurriedly, then abruptly changed his mind. "Everything."

"You need to relax. This year has been hard on all of us, but you're taking it way too personally."

"I have to," he insisted. "If I don't..."

"Voldemort and the prophecy," she finished, knowingly. "I've been watching you for a long time, Harry. Whenever something is bothering you, it takes a drastic course of action to shake you out of it. You always dwell on the bad things too much. It's time something good happened for a change."

"Let me know when you see it."

"That's it," she declared, putting everything away with a wave of her wand. "I want you to go get your Firebolt and meet me down on the Quidditch pitch in half an hour. Don't ask questions, just do it for me. Please."

Ginny left before he could protest. Harry followed after her, but there was no sign of her when he exited out into the corridor. She had undoubtedly known he would follow after her, and must have taken an alternate route. Harry pulled out the Marauder's Map, which he'd taken to carrying around with him at all times these days, and scanned for the dot with Ginny's name next to it. Ginny had just exited out of a side passage that led down from the hallway where Harry stood. Now, she was heading towards the library. Curious, he watched her for a moment as she approached Luna Lovegood's dot, then folded the map up.

He wanted to spy on her a little more, admittedly. It was much more enjoyable than what he'd originally planned to do, but Harry wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. He might not be dealing with Snape anymore, but that didn't mean Professor Darkholme didn't have the grounds to punish him for what happened. As Harry wandered back down towards the Dark Arts classroom, he passed a half-opened door that led into one of the empty storage closets. A flash of sunlight struck a mop of red hair inside, making Harry pause and turn around. Looking through the door, he spotted a tall, lanky prefect snogging another girl passionately, who's arms were wrapped tightly around his neck.

Ron was kissing Hermione with a feverish intensity, which seemed to more than make up for his lack of technique as far as she was concerned. The two pawed at one another through their Hogwarts robes for a moment. Hermione let out an uncharacteristic squeak as Ron reached down between her legs, but didn't push him away. Harry blushed, and started to back away, when something occured to him.

There was something wrong with the scene in front of him, and it only took a second to figure out what. Ron had been blocking much of his view, and up until that point, Harry hadn't gotten a good look at the girl hiding behind him. Light was coming in from the window above them, however, and now Harry saw what was so very wrong. The hair atop the girl's head was blonde, and nowhere near bushy enough. Moreover, she was several inches taller than Hermione, only needed to stand on her tiptoes to reach Ron's lips. Harry's throat went dry, and a boiling rage welled up from within him.

Before he could stop himself, he had his wand out. The spell was in his mind before he had time to think about it. A bright flash lit the tip of it, and the door was sent flying inward towards them like a battering ram. Bits of stone splintered as well from the force of it. Ron and the very surprised seventh year girl both whirled around in shock to find Harry staring daggers at them both from inside the door frame. He must have made quite the sight just then. Going by the look on Ron's face, he couldn't decide whether to be more alarmed at being caught by Harry, or the murderous gaze Harry was currently shooting at him.

"Harry..." Ron began.

"_**Silencio**_," Harry cried out, muting Ron's protests. "How could you, Ron? How could you do this to her?!"

Ron, of course, couldn't answer, but that didn't stop him from trying. All that came out were a lot of muffled 'umphs' and 'dffts', followed by hysterical hand-waving motions, which Harry suspected were demands for him to remove the spell. Harry didn't, however, and Ron responded to this by drawing his own wand. All he managed to do was send sparks flying out, none of which reached anywhere near where Harry stood. The seventh year took one look between the two of them, and made a mad dash for the door. Harry allowed her to pass without so much as a word. His eyes were glued to Ron at the moment.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Harry lowered his wand. Ron's face relaxed as Harry slipped it away within his robes, and walked calmly up to him. The look that was in his old friend's eyes was unfathomable. Harry gazed into it for a moment, trying to work out what he wanted to say, trying to understand where he'd gone wrong that things would end up this way. Nothing came, though.

Ron was staring at him hesitantly now, relieved that Harry wasn't going to hex him. The look made him smile for some unfathomable reason. Turning to the side, slightly, Harry reared back and soundly punched Ron directly in the face. A loud crack filled the closet, and blood splattered across Ron's face from his nose, covering everything from his eyebrows to his chin in blood. Harry thought he hadn't put much force behind it. This was proven wrong when Ron went sailing back and crashed into the wall, banging the back of his head against a low support beam in the process. The sick thud was matched only by the sound Ron made as he crumpled in a heap onto the floor.

Harry looked down at him, his eyes widening in shock. Blood smeared the knuckles on his fist. None of them were bleeding, however.

There wasn't so much as a scratch.

*****

All in all, it was a miserable ending to an otherwise thoroughly horrid day. Harry never did get to apologize to Professor Darkholme for the fight that had broken out under his watch, or meet Ginny down by the Quidditch pitch. He'd spent the rest of the day watching over Ron, who was currently sleeping up in the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey had given him a strange look when he'd carried Ron in, still unconscious from the punch. He'd simply laid Ron out on one of the beds and stepped back to allow her room to work. In the end, Madame Pomfrey was able to revive Ron and set his nose right. The blood smeared across his face had been cleaned up, and for a long time, all they did was stare at one another. Eventually, Ron lapsed into a deep sleep, but not before giving Harry a message.

"Don't tell Hermione."

Ginny and Hermione both were waiting for Harry when he finally went down for dinner in the Great Hall. Most of the other students had cleared out already, so they were alone. Neville gave him a wave, and immediately noticed the look on Harry's face. Luna came over just as Harry sat down, and Neville quickly made room for her.

"Where were you?" Ginny asked, sounding very worried. "There's a rumor going around that Ron is in the Hospital Wing and you had something to do with it."

"Yeah," he nodded, emptily. "Sorry about earlier."

"Harry, what happened?" Hermione demanded. "Matilda Berthshaw, the seventh year, is going around telling anyone who will listen that you tried to kill Ron earlier. I told her if she didn't shut up I would place a secret boy-repelling jinx on her, so she'd never snog again. Of course, there isn't such a thing as a boy-repelling jinx..."

"Yes, there is," Luna cut in. "It's pronounced _'Masculinis Repellexium'_. Daddy used it once when two older boys from the neighborhood wouldn't stop flirting with me. He said I was much too young for dating."

She smiled secretly towards Neville as she said this, making him blush. "Anyway," Hermione went on, sounding very annoyed. "What happened with you and Ron?"

Harry didn't see how he could get out of telling them. There was still food left over, but his stomach had all the consistency of lead at the moment. With that, Harry pushed his plate away and began explaining. Hermione looked shocked at first, and then angry. By the time he'd finished, there were tears in her eyes.

"Excuse me," she whispered, sniffing. "I need to..."

The tears were rolling down her face before she could finish. Harry stood up to go after her, but Ginny quickly stopped him. "Let me," she said, gently. "Luna, would you mind terribly much?"

Luna merely stood up and followed after her, stopping only to pat Neville on the back playfully as she walked past. Neville smiled at her, then waited until both were well out of earshot before leaning in towards Harry.

"You punched Ron through a _wall_?!" he demanded, incredulously. "How did that happen?"

"Not through a wall," Harry corrected. "Just into one. Mind you, it was a few feet behind him."

"Still," Neville said, looking impressed. "When did you get to be so strong, Harry? I wouldn't mind knowing, to tell you the truth." His eyes darted back towards where Luna had left with Ginny. "Just, you know, strickly for school purposes. Pulling apart those Mugwump roots for Professor Sprout gets tiresome after a bit."

"Oh, yeah," Harry nodded, in spite of himself. "I'm sure."

Try as he might, Harry couldn't keep from laughing. "I don't know how I did it," he admitted, when they'd both calmed down. "But it's happened before, on the train when I got into the fight with Malfoy."

"Speaking of which," Neville said, moving in closer again. "Have you noticed Malfoy lately?"

Harry had actually spent a good bit of time noticing Malfoy. Or, to be more specific, the house-elves had. Dobby had reported back to him several times, all with the same news. Something was obviously going on with Draco, but whatever it was, it wasn't happening inside the castle walls. Since school had started back, however, the changes in him had become far more obvious to even the most unobservant person.

Malfoy had gone from pale to a sick, ghostly white. Dobby reported him spending a lot of time away from the Slytherin common room, wandering around aimlessly in the hours before bedtime. Not once had he been late getting back, however, nor had he been caught by any of the Aurors patrolling the grounds. This bothered Harry more than he cared to admit. The worse part about it, though, was he couldn't bring himself to approach him. Malfoy had obviously been marked as a Death Eater. The dagger he remembered seeing in Malfoy's hands when Harry had been under the Invisibility Cloak must have been bloodied up because of him trying to cut off the Dark Mark. Whatever Voldemort was having him do, or planned to use him for, was taking it's toll. These days, Draco Malfoy looked to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

The question that haunted Harry was, should he bother doing anything about it?

A part of him wanted to say no. Admittedly, a very large part, but something inside Harry's gut told him he couldn't do it. In the end, Malfoy was being forced into this. That much was obvious, even without an Honor Guard to track his every step. Harry knew whatever horrible things Voldemort subjected Draco to were the result of Draco's own blind following of his father's mania. Still, even Malfoy didn't deserve this.

Well, he probably didn't, anyway.

Harry left with Neville, hoping that by the time they reached the Gryffindor common room, Ginny would have helped calm Hermione down. Or, at the very least, stopped her from marching right up to the Hospital Wing to reduce Ron's more affirmable man parts to ash. Much of him was still in shock over it, while another part was still trying to rationalize Ron's actions. A third part somewhere in the mix was still trying to sort out how all of this explained the way Ron had reacted earlier during their DA session.

Harry stopped just outside the Dark Arts room, causing Neville to bump into him. He'd thought earlier of talking with Professor Darkholme, before catching Ron en flagrant with the seventh year girl. Now, it made less sense for him to take the blame for something someone else started, especially someone who'd behaved like a right prat and then ran off to snog with a girl other than Hermione. Ron, if anything, was the one who should apologize. From the looks of things, he was going to be doing a lot of that. Nevertheless, Harry felt it was his responsibility to try and smooth things over with his Dark Arts teacher. Ron might not be thrown out if he put in a good word for him, though Harry himself wasn't quite sure if he should.

Which was why he still felt confused as he turned around to head towards Professor Darkholme's office. Neville followed him, confused about what Harry was doing. Harry didn't feel like explaining, though, and broke into a jog. Neville was still able to keep up with him, and only feel a few spaces behind as Harry approached the door. Something made him stop just a few steps away from it, however. Crouching, he motioned for Neville to do the same, and moved in closer.

The door was ajar, as though it'd been closed in haste. From inside, he could hear the sound of a woman moaning lowly as if in pain. Taking a chance, he crept up to the crack in the door and peered in. Neville peeked in over Harry's head, and received a full-on glimpse of what made Harry's jaw drop to the floor.

Draco Malfoy was stretched out across Professor Darkholme's desk, naked as the day he'd been born, with the Professor unclothed and straddled atop him as if he were a very thick broomstick. Malfoy had both hands on the Professor's hips, pushing her up with them as she raised herself off his cock. Sweat covered his forehead as she lowered herself back down on him, letting out a painful groan each time. Draco let go of her hips long enough to reach up and fondle her breasts, then raised up to run his tongue along one. Professor Darkholme leaned forward to give him better access, gasping as he licked and bit first one, then the other.

Harry found, to his utter shock, that he was completely aroused by the sight. Pulling back, he glanced upwards at Neville, who seemed unable or unwilling to tear his eyes off them. If poor Harry was embarassed, Neville looked red enough to compete with some of Sprout's Glow Buds. Much to his own shame, he peeked back around as both Darkholme and Malfoy slowed their pace a little.

"Was that enough?" Malfoy demanded, still moving in and out of her.

"Mmmm," the Professor groaned, raising up enough to where Harry and Neville could see how the two of them fit together. "A little bit more, I think. You were the one who came to me asking for help, if you'd recall."

"I need to know the secret," Draco insisted through clenched teeth as he shoved himself up in her hard. Professor Darkholme gasped in response. "You know the legend of the four treasures," he went on, using very carefully, controlled strokes. "Your study was in the myths and workings of magical artifacts. If anyone can tell me where I can find them, you can."

The Professor stopped for a moment, and leaned down over Draco again to look him in the eyes. "I know all about the legend, of course," she said, smugly. "More than most people would, anyway. That drew a number of young men like yourself to me when I was first here, seeking power and glory for themselves. Helping you find them is another matter, I'm afraid. I know nothing about where the Four Hallows, as they were called in my day, might be hidden. You're on your own there."

"Tell me, then," Draco whispered, moving inside of her once more. "The first one... It's supposed to be a chalice, right?"

"Hufflepuff's chalice," she answered between moans. "Pour even a drop of something into it, and it will release the same thing a hundred fold again and again, for as long as one needs it. Hundreds of thousands were said to have... been fed by it."

"And a sword," Malfoy growled, slamming his hips up into her. "Gryffindor's sword. Dumbledore is said to have it."

"A sword made of pure silver," she nodded, ridding him a little faster. "Like liquid light, it can cut down any foe so long as the cause of the wielder is just."

"What are the other two? Tell me, quickly."

Malfoy had begun to fuck her in earnest again. "Tell me of the one belonging to Slytherin!"

All the Professor could do at first was cry out incoherantly. Harry, meanwhile, was listening intently at what they were saying. Ignoring the sounds was no easy task, and he was sure Neville would think him a total prat by the time this was over, but Harry knew this was important. It was the second time someone had mentioned Hallows to him. Professor Darkholme knew what they were, and seemed very happy to give the information over in exchange for the right price.

"Gryffindor's sword," he said to himself.

The sword he himself had used four years ago to slay the basillisk down in the Chamber of Secrets. Harry knew it had belonged to Godric Gryffindor. Dumbledore had shown the inscription to him afterwards. From what Professor Darkholme was sharing with Draco, it sounded like the other three founders had items similar to it.

Darkholme abruptly let out a cry, shaking Harry from his thoughts. Looking into her office, he saw her with her head tossed back, screaming in mad passion. Malfoy had raised himself up off the desk as far as he could go, driving his shaft into her with a vengence. The both of them held that pose for a second, as though caught in a Muggle photograph, then collapsed on top of one another in a heap.

For a moment, neither one said anything. The Professor kept busy by placing light kisses over Draco's chest, and quietly lapping up the droplets of sweat beaded over his skin. Draco was perfectly still the whole time, looking tired as if he'd just played the Quidditch match of a lifetime. A strangely distance expression had fallen over his face, as though he were a million miles away, and didn't register Darkholme's presence anymore. When he finally gazed down at her, Harry pulled back a little and listened carefully.

"Slytherin," Malfoy reminded her. "What about the Hallow belonging to Slytherin?"

"A stone," she answered at once, between kisses.

Malfoy grasped the back of her head and made her look at him. "And?" he demanded. "What of it's powers?"

"The stone is different from the others," she said flatly, looking annoyed now. "All of the Hallows much chose their wielders, but the one that belonged to Slytherin is said to be especially particular."

"Of course," Draco replied, sure of himself. "Slytherin would never trust power to someone unworthy of it."

That made Professor Darkholme smile, for some reason. "The stone will grant enhanced magical prowess and power to it's wielder. Some people say it could heal the sick and the injured, much in a similar way that Hufflepuff's chalice did. The stone's greatest power, however, was said to be the ability to guide those who carried it to their destiny. In short, it granted luck at opportune moments. This is why some people in obscure circles referred to it as the Stone of Destiny."

Draco nodded, as if satisfied for the first time. "How about Ravenclaw?" he added, almost as an afterthought. "What shape did her Hallow take?"

"A spear," Professor Darkholme said, half-heartedly. "People who carried it in battle were guaranteed victory as long as it wasn't dropped. Death awaits anyone foolish enough to drop Ravenclaw's spear. Also, the spear has some strange insight embedded into it. People who have owned it throughout the years have gained insight into themselves and other things, usually anything associated with scholarship or warfare, but sometimes a handful of other areas, too."

"And that's all of them? All four of them together form the Four Hallows of Hogwarts?"

"Yes," she yawned, lazily. "Supposedly, when the four founders first came here to build Hogwarts, their means were very limited. Though all four were incredibly powerful in terms of magic and skill, that still didn't compensate for the lack of manpower. Plus, the castle was always in danger of attack by Muggles, who feared magic in any form. To counter this, all four founders forged artifacts of immeasurable power. Two for attack, and two for defense. They also cast spells on Hogwarts so that it could be used to defend their students in the event of a full-scale invasion. The chalice could feed the students in the event of a famine. The stone would heal any injury, and provide Salazar with understanding in what ways to best protect the children. Ravenclaw was the strategist and master planner, so her weapon opened the mind to new possibilities in battle, while Gryffindor's sword was full of might and courage, just like him."

"The stories surrounding them were quite popular at one time, particularly when I first taught here. The legend comes and goes, and I understand many students have spent their years here searching for them. What makes you think you'll find even one?"

In answer, Draco flipped her off him and stood up. "Because," he said, not looking her way. "I have no other choice."

Draco Malfoy was dressed in a moment. Harry and Neville took refuge behind a statue of a feminate male wizard trying to juggle pigs, watching as Draco stormed off back towards the Slytherin common room. Harry watched for a second, then pulled his wand out.

_**"Accio Invisibility Cloak!"**_

Draco whirled around at the sound, making Harry flatten himself against the wall beside the statue. When he looked again, Malfoy was gone. "What are we going to do, Harry?" Neville asked, as Harry stepped out into the corridor.

"I'm going to follow him," he stated. "This is what Voldemort sent Draco here to do. He wants him to find those four Hallows for him, so he can take over Hogwarts, or the Ministry of Magic, or both."

"Let me come with you. I can keep up, and I promise not to get in the way."

"It'll be dangerous," he warned, tapping his foot impatiently. His Cloak hadn't arrived yet, and they needed to get out of there before Malfoy got away, or Professor Darkholme came out of her office and spotted them.

"I can..." Neville began, but Harry ran off after Malfoy. His Invisibility Cloak would just have to catch up.

"I can keep up," he insisted, when he did catch up with Harry.

"Do you remember the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked, without breaking his stride. "This could be just like that, or even worse."

"I know," Neville nodded. "That's why I want to go. Harry, none of us are going to die on you. You taught us all how to take care of ourselves. We're as strong as we are because of you."

"How do you even know I'm that strong?"

Harry wasn't sure why he asked that, but a second later, the Cloak swooped over their heads and landed on top of Harry. Straightening it over himself, he felt Neville drag part of it over his own head, until they were both completely covered. Behind them came the sound of footsteps, and the voices of Order members. Harry had the unfortunate timing to remember that the Cloak wasn't completely invisible when it wasn't being worn by someone. Naturally, something like this would attract attention if seen flying around the castle on it's own, even in a place like Hogwarts.

"We both know you're strong," Neville told him as they took off running together. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be doing this. I wouldn't be doing it, either."

That made Harry feel proud for some reason. "Okay, Neville," he nodded. "Let's go."


	22. Chapter 22 Draco's Flight

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 22

_**Draco's Flight**_

by Ri-kun

"Harry, can I ask you something?"

Harry peered around the corner before looking back to Neville. They were both crouched behind a wall, waiting for the Aurors to pass by. None of them were close enough to hear, but he still wanted to wait. Unfortunately, waiting meant that Malfoy would get back to the Slytherin common room before they could catch up. If that happened, there'd be no way to reach him tonight.

"What?" he asked, noticing how Neville seemed suddenly uncomfortable.

"About what happened before," Neville began, awkwardly. "Is it... is it always like that?"

Harry was confused. "With what..." Neville tried again, frustrated. "With girls. I mean, when Professor Darkholme and Draco... Is it like that for everybody?"

Harry had anticipated a lot of things so far, but that hadn't been one of them. "Um," he stammered, feeling very silly that he couldn't answer a simple question when Aurors and members of the Order were just around the corner.

"I guess," he tried, finally. "I mean, I can't speak for everyone, but it can be like that."

"So, you really did..." Neville mumbled, embarassed. "I mean, you've..."

"Yeah," he nodded, looking away. "More than once, actually."

"Wow!" Neville was impressed. "And it was like that?"

"Pretty much," he nodded. "Um, we should go."

"Right," Neville nodded emphatically underneath the Cloak. "We should. They might come this way any minute now."

"Right."

Harry and Neville both stood up at the same time. As they did, a gust of cool air blew down from farther back in the corridor. With it came the smell of dust and mold, waifing under his nose like a feather. On top of all that, Harry couldn't remember a time that the Invisibility Cloak had been washed. He'd assumed for years that it was somehow self-cleaning. As his nose burned, he drew in a deep breath in the hopes of squashing the sneeze building up, only to drag in a rather foul musty stank. Neville spotted Harry drawing his head back uncontrollably to sneeze, and quickly clamped his hand down over Harry's nose and mouth.

Together, they stood there for a moment, Harry unable to breath. When he nodded desperately for Neville to let go, he did so very carefully, as though waiting to see if it was really safe or not. When Harry nodded his thanks, Neville's shoulders slumped in relief.

"AH-CHOO!"

Neville raised up apologetically from spraying down Harry's whole face. "Sorry!" he pleaded.

Harry turned around, hearing the Aurors and Order members coming their way. "Run for it," he hissed, and took off with Neville right beside him.

Running with the Cloak on, as it turned out, was a very bad idea. Years of being chased by Dudley had taught Harry how to maintain a steady pace for miles without tiring, and while Neville was nowhere near the slowpoke he'd started out as when first arriving at Hogwarts, he still couldn't quite keep up. More to the point, it was growing ever more difficult to keep themselves covered by the Cloak at the speed they were making. From the sound of things behind them, the Aurors had brought in reinforcements.

"It figures!" Harry growled, furious with himself. "Draco Malfoy can wander around the castle all night if he wants to and no one cares, but one little sneeze brings half the Order down our arses!"

"I'm really sorry, Harry. I don't know what happened."

"It's okay, Neville. Just... RUN!"

Harry wasn't sure why they were even bothering anymore. If Malfoy hadn't made it back to the Slytherin common room by now, he would surely have enough sense to run like hell at this point. It sounded as though half of Hogwarts were coming after them. If Draco didn't flee from the sound of that, he deserved to get caught, in Harry's opinion.

Harry was confused himself as to why they were still running. The most any of them would do is give he and Neville detention for being out after curfew. Most of the Order members knew well enough to report anything straight to Dumbledore. If he told them what they'd seen, Dumbledore was sure to do something about it. Even as they both ran, however, Harry knew he didn't completely believe that. Dumbledore had used him to convince Darkholme to come back. Since his return, things had been different between them. Something else was urging him onward, as well. There wasn't time to dwell on it, but Harry knew they just had to catch up to Malfoy.

"This way!" he said, suddenly, changing course.

"What?" Neville gasped, as Harry seized him by the back of his shirt. "Ack!"

"Just trust me," he insisted, taking them down a different path. "Malfoy came this way. He's getting ready to leave the castle."

Neville was amazed, and running out of breath. "How... how do you know that?"

Harry wasn't sure himself, so he said nothing. Up ahead was a door on their left. Harry reached for it, and found it was locked. _**"Alohamora!" **_he cried out, not even reaching for his wand. The door gave a click and swung itself open for them just as they reached it.

"Inside," Harry told him, glancing back once to make sure the coast was clear before closing the door and locking it. "Alright, Malfoy, it's time we finished what started on the train before..."

"Malfoy isn't here, Harry," Neville told him, stepping aside so he could see. "The room's totally empty."

Harry stopped short for a second, then shook it off. "I'm sure Malfoy came in here instead of heading for the Slytherin common room," he insisted. "Don't ask me how I know. It's just something in my gut telling me."

Neville nodded. "That's good enough for me. You've been right before when nobody else had a plan. Now, we just have to figure out why he came in here, and where he went afterwards."

"All before the Aurors show up," Harry added. "This should be fun."

Harry and Neville spread out, searching throughout the room. It looked like an very small classroom that hadn't been used in quite some time. There wasn't much in the way of things like desks or furniture to look through, so Harry started checking the walls for any hidden passages or sliding panels. Neville seemed to be thinking the same thing. Outside the door, footsteps were heard running past. It wouldn't be long before they came looking in here, and no locked door would keep them out. Harry turned around, frustrated, and his eyes landed on a small rug in the middle of the floor.

Something made him walk over to it. Suspicious, Harry turned the corner of the rug over, and saw something at once. The edge of a circle that had been clearly enscribed in blood was visible against the dirty brown thread.

"Neville," he called out. "I think I've found it. Come here and give me a hand."

"What is it?" he wondered, helping Harry turn the rug over.

Harry smiled triumphantly as he looked down. "It's an Apparation Circle. Look, there's no time to explain, but this will let anyone Apparate out of the castle despite all the Anti-Apparation wards and defensive spells. Wizards don't use them because of how risky it is. People who use them tend to splinch themselves, or wind up horribly off course."

"Have you ever used one before?" Neville wondered, amazed.

"Yeah," Harry admitted. "I... wound up on top of a roof."

"Better than splinching yourself," he mused. "Can we use it?"

"We should be able to," Harry nodded. "If Malfoy got out this way, we can follow him. He must have another Circle somewhere outside the castle. That way, he gets in and out with no one seeing him."

"Let's go," Neville said at once. "Wait, though. If somebody comes in here, they'll see it. I'll stay behind with the Cloak and make sure no one finds it. You go on after him."

"No need," Harry reassured him. "We can just turn the rug back over. It works either way."

"Oh, right."

Harry wished he were as confident as he sounded. In theory, of course, everything he'd just said was correct. Using his own Apparation Circle had been fine, because no one else was in danger of getting hurt. But Neville was already standing in place, waiting for him. Harry stood up and put his feet down alongside. From outside the room, they could here more Aurors coming close.

"Harry," Neville gulped. "I've never... Apparated before. I mean, not by myself."

"It's okay," he said quickly. "I think I can walk us both through it. Just try to relax and concentrate."

"There's someone in here!" a voice from the other side of the door shouted.

"Now!" Harry cried out, grabbing Neville as he felt his body being compressed through a rubber tube. Neville started to scream, but then his cries were cut off. Harry kept both hands clutched to his friend's arms, hoping the entire time that they were still attached to the rest of him. When the horribly familiar sensation finally stopped, Harry let out a gasp. Neville was right in front of him, and looking more or less in the same shape as before, save for the fact that his face was swelled up like he'd just swallowed Blubbotubber Puss.

"Ow!" Neville moaned. "Does it always feel like that?"

"You get used to it after a while," he replied, absentmindedly, looking around at where they were. "I think."

"Someone needs to come up with a better way of travelling, then. I can't believe I spent my entire life waiting to see what that would feel like. It was horrible!"

"Neville," Harry cut him off. "I think we're in somebody's liquor cabinet."

Neville checked himself, and started chuckling. "Sorry," he apologized quickly. "But I couldn't stop thinking about what Gran would say if she knew I was in here. Harry, why would Malfoy come here?"

"I don't know."

Harry then noticed the sound of muffled beats coming from behind him. The rhythm was strangely familiar, and he could also make out a number of people talking over the noise. Looking over his shoulder, he spotted a door with light coming from around the cracks. Just then, the door shook and opened abruptly. Harry and Neville both dove behind several barrels of ale that had been carelessly stacked nearby. A lone man who looked as though he had a bit of orge in him was stumbling backwards, carrying something heavy. Together, they watched as he shuffled the half-empty drum that was labeled as dwarf beer over to a corner. The noise from before was deafening now. The half-ogre dusted his hands off, then sniffed the air once as if suddenly aware of something. Nevill and Harry ducked down as he looked their way, crinkled his nose, and shambled off back through the door.

"That was close," Neville breathed.

"Come on," Harry said, standing up. "We can't stay here. Someone will find us, and we still haven't located Malfoy."

"Oh, right."

Harry's uncomfortable feelings about the place were confirmed the moment he and Neville stepped out of the room. They were in a kind of pub with lots of flashing lights and people standing around drinking, the ones who weren't gyrating to the sound of the music, at least. It was the same place he'd come to last summer after fleeing the Burrow to look for Rayne. This was where he'd brought the Heart of Grindelwald to in the hopes of trading it for her. Harry had honestly never expected to see this place again, yet it made an odd kind of sense to him that they would wind up chasing Malfoy here.

Harry grabbed Neville by the sleeve of his robe and dragged him off to the side just as a couple beside them turned around and look at them, suspiciously. "We're still wearing our Hogwarts robes," he explained over the skull-rattling beats. "Malfoy must have changed out of his, or did something to them. Hold still!"

Harry pulled out his wand and waved it over Neville's front. _**"Glamorisguise!"**_

It was doubtful the spell could be overheard, but it was enough to do the trick. Neville found himself suddenly decked out from head to toe in an odd sort of variation of what everyone else was wearing. Harry did the same to himself, holding the wand up over his head, as Neville began admiring his new attire.

"It won't last long," Harry explained, putting his wand back where he could reach it quickly. "I found the spell in the Marauder's Manual. I think Sirius and my dad may have used it for the same thing once or twice."

"Cool."

"Come on," he motioned, scanning the room. "Let's find Malfoy. And try not to let people bump into you. The spell is pretty flimsy."

Twenty minutes later, they had searched the entire club. Malfoy was nowhere to be found. Furthermore, no one could remember if they'd seen anyone that fit his description or not. Of course, those were only the ones that'd been willing to talk with Harry. The majority of them, upon seeing his approach, looked the other way or got up and walked off altogether. Harry was used to getting weird reactions from people over his scar. It had happened all his life, but he'd made sure to keep it covered with his bangs this time. As far as he could tell, nobody in here recognized him, yet they still seemed spooked.

It didn't look like Neville was having the same problem. A number of people, particularly the girls, were all too happy to have a word with him. Frustrated, Harry decided to wait for his friend at the bar, ordering a drink for himself to pass the time. The bartender gave him an odd look, but didn't bother asking him about his age. The stuff he poured was stout, but Harry managed to not choke on it. Once he got used to the burning, he found the rich, amber flavor appealing.

Neville sat down on the stool next to him a few minutes later. "No one has seen him," he said, sadly. "What are you drinking?"

Harry looked at him, then motioned for the barkeep to pour another. "Here," he said, tossing two Galleon on the counter. "Keep the change."

"I couldn't get anyone to even speak with me," he grumbled, feeling frustrated. "Half the people walked off before I could come near them!"

Neville coughed once, then set his drink down. "Well," he grunted, turning red. "You do kind of give off a presence, Harry."

Neville had lost him. "A what?" he wondered.

"A presence," Neville tried again, picking his glass up for another sip. "It's like a vibe with you. Wherever you go, you give off this feeling. It can be pretty intimidating, especially this year. I mean, you've always had it..."

Neville finally gave up and set the drink away from him, coughing. "You've always had it. I guess being the only wizard alive who managed to survive You-Know-Who and the Killing Curse makes other people wonder. Since school started back, though, you've been different from the way you used to be. I'm not the only person who's noticed, either. It's like you've become... more intense or something."

"I'm still Harry," he insisted. "There's nothing different about me, Neville."

"Oh, I know," Neville agreed. "It's not that. You've just become more... I guess mature, or maybe you're just more 'you' than you used to be."

Harry was confused. The thing that bothered him most was that he had heard this same description of himself before from Ginny. Had being with Rayne really affected him that much? Was he changed permanently now, and if so, was it a good thing?

"You spend way too much time worrying about things that aren't important."

Harry jumped at the unexpected voice. The Oracle was suddenly sitting right next to him on the stool. Both he and Neville stared, not sure of where she came from. The Oracle just ignored them both and flagged the barkeep for a drink, which he offered without a word and left before she could pay. By the way the Oracle acted, however, she hadn't planned on it in the first place.

"Did..." Harry stumbled. "Did you Apparate in here?"

"Of course not," she scoffed, taking a long, hard swig from her glass. "That would be rude. I came through the door like any civilized person." Her eyes landed on the both of them. "I rest my case."

"Why are you here?" Harry asked, perhaps a bit too suddenly.

"To speak with your friend." The Oracle smiled at the stunned look on his face. "Don't flatter yourself, young man. Not everything in the world revolves around you. It would do you well to remember that. And as for yourself..."

The Oracle fixated her eyes directly on Neville. "Yes, ma'am?" Neville stuttered.

Harry recalled seeing Neville this nervous before when he was in the presence of his most formitable grandmother. "Calm down," the Oracle told him. "I only wanted to give you a message. You're going to have to make a quick decision soon, one that could potentially affect your life and your entire future for the better. But only if you trust your instincts and stop doubting yourself."

Neville was silent. "End of message," the Oracle added. "Oh, and before I forget..."

Harry watched as she reached into her robe and pulled out a small, ordinate glass bottle and passed it to him. Inside, Harry saw, was a familiar mist that swirled when he shook it up. "I don't think I need to tell you how it works," she went on. "If you don't have a Pensieve, that isn't my problem. Find someone else that has one and use theirs."

Harry put the bottle away. "I thought you didn't come all this way for me?"

"I didn't," she sniffed, not looking at him. "But as long as you're here, I figured I might as well cross that off my list of things that needed taking care of. Besides, if I didn't give it to you now, you'd likely forget to come by for it later, after what all is about to happen."

"What's going to happen?" This came from Neville, not Harry. "Is it something bad?"

"There's no point in my telling you," she shrugged, glancing past them. "Since it's right around the corner. Speaking of which..."

Both Harry and Neville turned to where the Oracle was pointing. Harry's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of none other than Draco Malfoy coming out of a doorway that lead into the back part of the club. A strange man was with him, who kept a possessive hand on his shoulder the whole time. Malfoy looked to be ignoring him, yet Harry could tell he was not comfortable with how close the older man was. The two moved through the crowd slowly. When people saw them coming, they parted to let them pass, clearly unnerved by the looks on their faces.

"How did she know?" Neville wondered, turning back around. "Harry, she's gone!?!"

Harry barely glanced back behind him. "I'm not surprised," he said, keeping his eyes focused on Draco. "Come on! The guy that's with him is probably a Death Eater."

"Harry!" Neville called after him, but Harry was already on his way out the door. Once outside the club, he looked back and forth down the sidewalk, searching. Neville came through the door behind him a second later.

"Harry," he said, leaning over a little. "I think I recognized that man who was with Draco."

That got his attention. "Who was it?"

"His name is Fredrick Sneezlemark, and he's real deep in the Ministry of Magic. I heard from my Gran that he works real close with Rufus Scrimgeour. They say he's been a part of some of the biggest Anti-Death Eater activities since Fudge was booted out."

Harry froze. "Blackstaff."

"Blackstaff?" Neville repeated. "What's that?"

"We have to find Draco," Harry insisted, looking around desperately. "He could be in more danger that he realizes."

"I thought Draco was working for You-Know-Who?" Neville asked, racing after Harry. "You said that Draco was a Death Eater now."

"I did!" Harry said, not slowing down. "And for all we know, he might be. But I think Draco's managed to get himself into even worse trouble than we thought. I think Draco's cut a deal with the Ministry of Magic."

Harry stopped outside a dark alley and pressed his back up against a wall. Neville crept along beside him as he peeked down low to the ground around the side. There in the distance, two cloaked figures were walking away together.

"It's them," Harry told him.

"If Draco is working for the Ministry, isn't that a good thing?"

Harry raised back and thought about Neville's question. "I don't know," he admitted. "It could be, but if Malfoy is playing both sides, someone is bound to figure it out. We did. And the minute Voldemort figures it out, Malfoy is as good as dead. I don't think he understands just how bad he's made things for himself."

Neville looked at the entrance to the alley for a moment. "We have to help him, Harry." Neville smiled a little at his reaction. "Yeah, I know. After everything the little prat has done to me, leaving him alone to clean out his own mess seems pretty justified, but we can't. We didn't form the D.A. to pick and choose who we were going to help. As long as Voldemort and his Death Eaters are out there, everyone is a victim."

"Even the people we might not like," he added, gritting his teeth together slightly.

"I know," he nodded, feeling some reluctance of his own. "Here."

Harry pulled out the Invisibility Cloak and handed it over to Neville. "Take this and head back to Hogwarts. Fine the others, get as many of the D.A. as will come, and bring them back here. I'm going to follow them and try to stall Malfoy once Sneezlemark leaves. I'll leave a trail so you can follow."

Neville didn't hesitate. "I'll be back, Harry," he swore, gripped the Cloak's edges as he threw it around himself. "It won't take long."

"I know," Harry nodded, as Neville disappeared from sight.

Harry knew the instant Neville was gone. The air around him had a stillness to it that hadn't been there before. Getting up, he peered around the corner again before taking off after them, his wand out and at the ready. The alley was dark, and Harry feared he'd waited too long. There wasn't any sign of them up ahead, but a little bit farther down, the alley forked off to his right in another direction, and down there were two silent figures just barely visible. Harry blinked, and thought for a moment the alley had become brighter. His eyes seemed to adjust to the dim light as needed. Passing it off as not important, Harry crept after them, keeping his head low and a spell at the ready just in case.

He was more nervous than usual. Granted, the surroundings were spooky enough to put him on his guard, but what bothered him the most was the uncertainty. Harry had fought Malfoy before, and faced down his fair share of Death Eaters. This past summer, he'd faced an onslaught of vampires. When Dementors and the Inferi attacked Hogsmeade, he was ready, but now, Harry was facing a new enemy. The Blackstaffs, he knew nothing about. Something about the name carried a hint of fear with it, as though it were somehow worse than even Voldemort. A year ago, Harry wouldn't have believed that possible. Recent experiences, however, had shown him horrors far worse than his nightmares could imagine.

And here he was, moving along as quietly as possible behind one, hoping Malfoy eventually seperated from him sooner or later. If not, Harry wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Somehow, he knew the Blackstaff Sneezlemark outmatched him by leaps and bounds. For the first time since he'd first learned of his magic, Harry wondered if the best thing wouldn't be to give up and run away.

Still, he pressed onward. The alley grew darker, yet his eyes still saw the outline of everything clearly. He had come this far, and giving up now would mean throwing away their biggest chance to expose Malfoy and the Ministry once and for all. Even if he couldn't do it all in one night, he was sure this was the first step.

The alley finally opened out in cobblestone path in front of the docks. Harry swept the area with his eyes to get his bearing, noticing several tall skyscrapers to his left. Draco had lead him all the way out to Canary Wharf, and now he and the Blackstaff were nowhere to be found.

"Potter!"

Harry smiled and turned around slowly, keeping his wand by his side. Malfoy was standing several feet away with his own wand out, pointed directly at Harry's chest. The sneer on his face didn't quite reach his eyes. Harry could tell in the dim light of the night: Malfoy was scared.

"Couldn't have walked a little more noisy back there, could you?" Malfoy jeered. "I heard you following after us for ages."

"Assuming you didn't spot me in the club," Harry countered. "Where's your friend Sneezlemark, the Blackstaff? Don't tell me he left you here?"

"I can take care of myself. What's it to you, Potter?"

"The same as it's always been, Malfoy." Harry put his wand away and walked forward. "You've cut a deal with the Ministry, haven't you?"

"Don't come any closer!" Malfoy's arm shook as he took aim at Harry's heart, but did nothing else. "I can drop you from right here."

"I had it all wrong," Harry went on, ignoring him as he kept right on moving. "My first thought was that you'd gone over to Voldemort's side. It made perfect sense, and you haven't exactly keep quiet about where your loyalties lie. No one would've expected you to trade yourself over to Scrimgeour."

"Potter..."

Harry kept on. "I saw you that night not long after school started. In the corridor with Snape. Voldemort put the Dark Mark on you, but you tried to take it off with a dagger. You thought it would keep him from controlling you, but it didn't. I'm guess you'd already gone to the Ministry by then. Either way, you've been playing both sides. The Ministry must have ordered you to spy on Dumbledore, and learn as much as you could about the Four Hallows. They must be getting desperate."

"I'm doing what I need to do to survive," Malfoy buckled for a moment, then righted himself again. "I'll kill you..."

"You would have killed me before if you were planning to," Harry pointed out. "I'm guess Voldemort doesn't want me dead yet, or at least, not for you to do it. What's he need you for, Malfoy? You didn't go back to Hogwarts to study Defense Against the Dark Arts, or to work for the Ministry, even. Voldemort wants you to do something else for him."

Malfoy looked at him. "I always thought Granger was the brains."

Harry shrugged. "I can't stay dumb forever, which is more than what could be said for you. Do you honestly think the Ministry plans to keep you alive. Scrimgeour will find some way to get rid of you the moment it becomes necessary, and we both know Voldemort has no lost love for your family."

It clicked for Harry then. "That's why you're doing this, isn't it? You became a Death Eater so Voldemort would spare your parents, but then he wouldn't break your father out of Azkaban prison. So, you had to give yourself up to the Ministry and spy for them in exchange for amnesty. For you, and your mother and father..."

"It's none of your business," Malfoy screamed. Harry was standing maybe three feet away, and could see the sweat covering Malfoy's brow. "The Dark Lord didn't say anything about cursing you," Malfoy went on. "I don't need to kill you to get away."

"Where are you going to go?" Harry pointed out. "Do you really think you can just waltz back into school now?"

"Why not?" Draco challenged, sounding confident for the first time. "You won't tell anyone where I've been. That would mean exposing yourself."

"I'm willing to take that risk, Malfoy. If it means stopping you..."

"No, you won't," Malfoy interrupted. "You'd never do anything to risk getting kicked out of Hogwarts. You hate those filthy Muggles you live with. Everyone knows that. Turning yourself in to expose me would be putting yourself back with them, and you'd rather die."

Harry felt a heavy thud in his gut. He wasn't long for his seventeenth birthday, but still... "I'm right," Malfoy jeered at him, again. "You won't do it."

"Tell Dumbledore what's happened," Harry tried, not willing to give up just yet. "He can help you. Malfoy, you're playing with fire trying to work for Voldemort and the Ministry at the same time. The minute he finds out, you and your parents will be killed. And if you think the Ministry will keep their promises, you're crazy."

Malfoy looked at him, serious for once. "If you believe in Dumbledore, then why are you always trying to do things on your own?"

Draco raised his wand up. Harry steeled himself for an attack, but Malfoy was pointed up at the sky. A green light erupted from the tip of his wand and soared up high overhead. Harry felt a jolt go through him as he recognized the spell. Up above them, the Dark Mark took shape, forming into a skull with a long serpent coming out of the mouth. Malfoy smiled, then took off running. Harry went after him, but Draco was headed the wrong way, towards the river.

"If they find me here, the Dark Lord will kill me," Draco said, looking back at Harry triumphantly. "I'll have to come up with some excuse, but imagine the look on his face when He finds out I did his other spy's work for them!"

Malfoy aimed at Harry's feet. _**"Shokushu Meshidas!"**_

The spell was solid black and smoke-like. It missed Harry's toes by mere inches, but the ripples send out under the cobblestone were powerful enough to knock him back on to his arse. When he looked up, Malfoy had taken to the sky, flying off over the river.

"Have fun, Potter!" he crowed, laughing into the night.

Something rose up out of the ground in front of Harry. The cobblestone beneath him cracked and split open as more of them came. They looked like narrow tentacles, but they were black and had a weird-looking, yellow fungus attached in spots. The tips opened up almost like mouths, bearing sharp teeth. It reminded Harry of the heads on some of Professor Sprouts plants. The slimey things turned towards him as though sensing his presence and dove down at him.

Harry rolled out of the way and blasted one, setting it on fire. The thing roared in pain, which seemed to affect the others as well. Harry tried another fire spell, spreading the flames around more openly, keeping them contained. In one try, he'd managed to uncover the creature's weakness. If he took care of this now, there might still be time to catch Malfoy. Even if he faced expulsion from Hogwarts, proving what he knew was still more important. And if it came down to it, he could always run away from the Dursleys.

That was what he was telling himself when they appeared, surrounding him. The Death Eaters took one look at the monster he'd contained, before one of them banished it with a wave. The others laughed, as though watching it die brought them a great deal of amusement. The cries it made caused Harry to wince. In spite of everything, he felt some measure of pity for the thing, whatever it had been.

That was the last thing he thought before each of them hit him with a curse from all around. He'd been prepared to fight, but not from so many at once. Harry tried a shielding spell, but it barely stood up against one of their hexes. Four or five of their spells shattered it. Whatever they were casting, it wasn't to Stun him. Harry's body felt like it was being set ablaze from the inside. He could feel the heat all the way down to his bones. Screaming wasn't possible, as his mouth was somehow held shut. His wand fell to the ground, with him quickly after it.

One of the Death Eaters was leaning over him. It was hard to think, but he thought he recognized the voice. "Sleep well, Potter," they whispered. "I guess following you here paid off after all."


	23. Chapter 23 Secret of Morgan Bloodmoon

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 23

_**The Secret of Morgan Bloodmoon**_

by Ri-kun

The first thing Harry felt as he regained consciousness was the cold. That, and the water splashing in his face out of someone's wand. He'd looked up in a daze just in time to see the clear liquid being forced out from the wand tip of the Death Eater in front of him. Harry gasped and choked as some of it went straight up his nose, burning a path down the back of his throat. As bad as it was, it made him feel slightly better. Not until the cold water hit his stomach did he realize just how thirsty he'd been. The Death Eater, meanwhile, lowered his wand and considered Harry for a moment.

Harry looked up again, a bit more cautiously this time, and noticed a very large animal standing next to Voldemort's henchman on four hairy legs. The wolf seemed to be watching him closely, with a decidedly inhuman expression. Harry thought he recognized a glimmer of regret in the animal's eyes before it glanced towards the Death Eater, just as he was raising his wand at Harry again, and growled low.

"I don't take orders from you," the Death Eater sneered, not backing down.

The wolf growled again, this time baring it's fangs threateningly, and snarled. "Oh, really?" the Death Eater challenged, turning his wand on the wolf instead. "You wanna back up those words? Try telling me that in your real form, punk."

Harry felt like he were missing out on a private conversation. "Excuse me," he interjected, sounding cheeky even for his ears. "I hate to interrupt what I'm sure is a private moment between a couple..."

The Death Eater rounded on Harry at that. "They were right," he said, sneering again. "You have got a mouth on you."

"I take it you're new here," Harry commented, ignoring him. "Were all of the senior members of Voldemort's entourage too busy with their groveling to keep watch? Or are the both of you here because nobody else wanted to."

"Funny," the Death Eater replied. "The Dark Lord is on his way even as we speak. All I have to do is make sure you sit tight until he arrives."

"Great," he mumbled, looking around at the dark room. "I guess this means I have the pleasure of your company."

The Death Eater's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, instead taking a chair that was resting nearby and sitting down in it. The wolf moved away from Harry after a moment's time slowly, but keep both eyes fixed on the wall where he'd been chained. Harry tried to pull himself free, but it was clear that these were no ordinary chains. Someone had conjoured them, and they glowed a soft green against his skin. He was stuck there at least for the moment, for the Death Eater would have made sure to take his wand. Once more, Harry took in his surroundings. There was little light in the room to see by, but Harry found his eyes adjusted quite well. Almost too well, in fact, for a moment later, he spotted it on a shelf at the other end of the room, encased in glass. The room he was held prisoner in looked ancient, like it belonged in another century, and clearly belonged to a wizard or witch. No Muggle would've had a room like this with so many odd inventions and collectables, all of which could only be powered by magic.

That, and the Death Eaters hated all Muggles, and pretended themselves to be nothing but pure-bloods.

Harry pushed all other thoughts out of his head and concentrated. Voldemort was on his way, could very well be here any second, wherever 'here' was. This should have paralyzed Harry with fear, yet he found himself strangely calm. His body relaxed as he convinced himself that he could figure a way out of this. He'd faced much worse than this before, and lived to tell about it. As though on cue, Yuzuho's face appeared before him. His heart leaped into his throat on reflex, and Harry nearly cried out. The wolf raised it's head up, then, as though sensing his abrupt distress, and Harry forced his mind to remain calm. Straining, he pushed the mental image out of his mind and focused on the task at hand.

It had been months since Harry had thought of her. Truthfully, he'd done all that he could to keep the memory of her out of his head. Despite being dead, Yuzuho remained the stuff of his nightmares in a way that Voldemort had never been. For a brief instant, he compared the two, then pushed the idea away altogether. There was really no time for it, but had he allowed himself to dwell on it, there was no argument. Yuzuho had regretfully been far worse than Voldemort.

Knowing she was dead and not on her way to confront him at this very moment gave Harry an odd comfort.

The Death Eater, meanwhile, stood up from his seat and began pacing. "I'm bored," he complained. "What's taking them so long? Shouldn't they be able to just Apparate here?"

The wolf moaned, as if in frustration. "What the hell do you know?" he snapped back.

"I feel like I'm missing something really big here," Harry broke in, again. "You keep talking like the two of you know one another."

"Stupid Mudblood," the Death Eater grumbled, looking away. "Don't you know anything?"

"I'm not a Muggle-born," Harry corrected, angrily. "Not that it matters."

"Of course it matters!"

"Why?"

The wolf in the corner abruptly stood up and walked over to the gap between them, baring it's fangs. Harry looked on at it carefully, which the Death Eater noticed at once. "Get out of here!" he ordered, shuffling the wolf out, who put up quite a bit of resistance by grabbing the fabric in the crotch of his robes.

Harry had to laugh at the absurdity of what was going on. The Death Eater began to howl, which only served to encourage the wolf to hold on tighter. Then, the Death Eater pulled out his wand and aimed right between the wolf's eyes. For a moment, Harry thought he would actually fire, but to his shock, the Death Eater lowered it and leaned forward. Harry strained his ears to listen.

"You don't want to blow your cover just yet, so get out. He already suspects something. Go back to Hogwarts and be ready when the Dark Lord commands you. You remember what your role in all of this is, right? Just be ready when that little band of misfits counterattacks."

The Death Eater opened the door to let the wolf out, who seemed to look back towards Harry remorsefully. Harry stared back blankly, until the wolf finally walked away. Once the door was closed, Harry's captor sauntered up to him, grinning the whole while like he'd just accomplished something enormous.

"What was his name?" Harry asked, feeling very stiff.

"Who?" The Death Eater looked confused for a moment, before it finally dawned on him. "Just a family pet. Nothing for you to worry about."

"You're family keeps wolves as pets?" he challenged. "Fine. What's yours, then?"

"Lief," he answered at once, almost reflexively. This seemed to worry him immediately afterwards, and he quickly straightened up. "Not that you'll live long enough for it to matter."

"Of course not," Harry replied, shrugging as best he could.

"Don't even bother trying to struggle," the Death Eater called Lief gloated, waving his wand in Harry's face. "Those chains were forged using a special process that's long since been lost. No one knows how to break out of them, and you've got even less of a chance without your wand."

"Hey, don't wave that thing around like that," Harry warned, moving his face away from the tip. "It might go off. Didn't anyone teach you basic wand safety?"

"Don't laugh," Harry warned, when Lief began to do just that. "I know someone who's known people that have lost a buttock from putting it in the wrong place!"

With Lief distracted, Harry tried to move his limbs some. He'd been strung up on the wall like some kind of orniment, with his arms and torso completely chained up, but at least he could still move his legs. Unfortunately, they were going numb just as fast as the rest of his body. He was going to have to act fast.

Lief noticed Harry struggling against his bonds again and aimed right for his chest, warningly. "I told you to give it up."

"No thanks," Harry replied, grinning. "Not really my style."

It took every bit of effort to do what he did next. The strain was almost too much, but he managed to push off against the wall and swung his legs upward, nearly over his head. As they came back down, Lief watched in confusion as he brought his feet together, capturing his wand between them. The wand was torn out of Lief's hands as gravity took over. Harry took a deep breath, said a prayer that this would work, and swung his legs out again just as they made contact with the wall. The wand stayed between his feet and was brought up right in front of Lief's face as Harry shouted.

_**"Stupefy!"**_

As he shouted the spell, the scar on his forehead burned. Harry screamed at the abrupt pain that cut like a dagger being shoved into the spot on his head. At the same time, the light from the spell filled the room, and suddenly, Harry found himself in a different place. He was flying through the air, flying without the aid of a broomstick, racing like mad to get to the castle where he knew the boy was. It didn't matter how this affected his plans for Hogwarts later. Right now, all that matter was he got to the boy.

Something changed, and he was abruptly back in the room with the whelp, Lief. Too late, Harry realized what had happened and tried to let go of the wand. His spell still hadn't fired, and Lief was holding up his hands as though terrified by what he say. His eyes were as wide as saucers, his face pale and suddenly gaunt. A voice screamed through Harry's mind, and he did everything he could to fight it back, but the wand was now being controlled by Voldemort's will.

_**"ADVADA KEDAVRA!"**_

Harry spread his legs to let go of the wand and kicked out as hard as he could. They made contact with Lief's chest just as the wand fired. The green flash blinded Harry for a minute as he fell back against the wall once more, knocking the wind out of his lungs in the process. When he raised up again, Lief was lying on the floor, not moving.

His heart sank in his chest. As the despair rose up to blanket him, he could hear Voldemort's laughter in his mind. Harry desperately fought to keep the Dark Lord out of his mind, but the laughter grew stronger. He could feel Voldemort's presence all around him now. Gathering himself, Harry closed his eyes and struggled to control his breathing. There hadn't been any sign of Voldemort all summer. He'd hoped that it meant he'd finally gained control of Occlumency on his own. In truth, there had been no change. Harry hadn't been keeping Voldemort out of his thoughts. The worst Dark Lord in a century had been avoiding him. Now, once more, he could enter Harry's mind without fear of being harmed like before.

It felt like he was being choked. Harry thought the fear would overwhelm him. For a moment, he wondered if this was what it'd been light for Rayne when her mother had attacked her, to feel helpless as someone else's will overtook her. Now, more than ever, he realized how terrible it must have been. Harry had been there himself before, yet until now, he had not realized that some part of him had blamed her for betraying him.

His breath quickened. To his shock, Harry found he could see again. The image of Voldemort in his mind as those gnarled hands squeezed his mind tightly receeded now. Something Dumbledore had said to him once before occured to him. Still hanging there, Harry gathered his remaining strength and inhaled deeply. He had no way of fighting back this time. His wand was across the room, and even if it'd been a few steps away, none of that would've matter with him still chained up. All he could do now was reach deep within himself with the last weapon he had. The only weapon, in fact, that had ever proven formitable against Voldemort.

Harry envisioned Rayne first in his mind. Memories of their brief time together came naturally, welling up from his chest. His body was bound, but his heart flew free as he pictured them together. It seemed so unfair that once more the time he spent with someone he loved was cut short. Still, for the first time in his life, he had hope for the future. Then there was Hermione and Ron. There was still so much he hoped they would do together, along with all that they'd done before now. And Ginny...

He knew she loved him. Ginny had always loved him before, but Harry could see now that his feelings for her had just been a way of coping with Rayne's absence. There was no future there, and he needed to tell her, but she was nevertheless a big part of his life. All of the Weasleys were. They were all with him now as he drew upon the love he had for them, and the love they'd shown him in return. He thought of Privet Drive for a brief second, and now lonely he'd been. His heart was so full in this moment that Harry thought it might burst. And as Dumbledore himself had said, it didn't matter whether he kept Voldemort out of his thoughts. What mattered most was what lay in Harry's heart.

With that, Harry gathered every last bit of love he had and gave it shape. For some reason, he pictured it as a kind of spear. Rayne was holding it, keeping it steady for him. Harry seized it with his inner strength and let it fly out towards the coming Darkness in him. There was a flash, and somewhere a good distance away still, Voldemort screamed. Every blasphemous curse Harry could possibly imagine rang in his ears as he visioned Voldemort plunging out of the sky to the earth. His Death Eaters would come for him. They would not allow him to fall, though that alone would not be enough to kill him. But the pain...

It was the boy!

Harry struck out again at that blackness in him that tied he and Voldemort together. Voldemort screamed again, and kept on screaming even as someone caught him. Over and over again, Harry attacked. He was holding a sword somehow now. There was no time to wonder where it could have come from. He could tell that Voldemort was weakening. Raising it overhead, Harry prepared to deliver what he was sure would be a crippling blow. Just as he swung, however, something slammed shut in his face from the other side. Gasping, he opened his eyes and looked around.

He was back in the room, still chained to the wall, with Lief slowly getting to his feet in front of him. The Death Eater's wand had rolled off to the side a little ways. Harry could see perfectly in the dimly lit room now, and noticed that Lief's wand appeared to have been specially crafted for him. A snake coiled from the tip down to the other end, where it's head formed a sort of hilt. A skull with it's mouth opened just an inch or two from it, mimicing the Dark Mark remarkably well.

"What..." Lief gasped, staggering some. "What just happened? How did you..."

"I don't..." Harry started to say, but then had the idea that it would probably be better for him to keep his mouth shut. Lief, however, realized immediately what Harry had been about to say, and pointed a finger towards him accusingly.

"No, I saw it. There was all this darkness around me, and then you were there. You must've done some kind of magic, because there was this bright light shining, and at first I couldn't see real well. But it was you! You were fighting him, and scared him away. I could... I could _feel _it. He was frightened of you. What the hell are you, anyway?"

"Nothing special," came a voice behind Lief. "He's just Harry."

Lief turned around, allowing Harry to glimpse the figure standing there. A familiar-looking Death Eater, and rather short all things considering, was removing his mask slowly so that Harry could see his face. Lief scowled at him, but Harry only stared as Morgan Bloodmoon looked to him, his eyes almost pleading for Harry to sympathize. The rest of his face was cold and very neutral.

"I thought you might have figured it out by now."

"I might have," Harry admitted. "If I hadn't been so busy giving you the benefit of the doubt."

"You trust people," Morgan noted, laying his Death Eater mask aside. "That's what made it so easy. And, so hard. I was supposed to wait and bring you hear later, but Malfoy screwed everything up by getting caught sneaking out of Hogwarts. I had to move quickly to salvage what was left of the Dark Lord's plan."

"Where am I?" Harry demanded, softly.

"This is where I grew up." Morgan made a gesture, and the room was suddenly well-lit. Harry found his eyes taking much longer than they should have to adjust. He seemed to prefer the dimly-lit room better, but wasn't going to interrupt Morgan for anything at the moment.

"This is Bloodmoon Castle, located on on the moors. I was raised here by my family, who are all wizards. All of them except me."

"Yeah, about that," Lief interrupted. "Should you be telling him this?"

Morgan ignored him, and continued. "My mother took a consort at one point, falling below her status by allowing herself to love a Muggle. When she died, I was brought here to be raised. No one expected me to develop magic. Dirty blood, and all that rot, but when I did, the only suitable thing was to send me to Hogwarts. Luckily, by that time, nearly all my cousins had left. I kept to myself in Slytherin, hoping that would enable me to survive."

"Why?"

Morgan met Harry's gaze. "I'm not asking you for forgiveness, Harry Potter. Even you would never stoop so low as to offer it to me, and I would not accept. In the end, it's better for us all if you hate me. That, I think, will give you the drive to do what needs to be done."

Morgan waved his wands, and the chains holding Harry up melted. "You don't have a lot of time. Even with whatever you did, the Dark Lord will still be here shortly. If you want to destroy him, leave now."

"Right," Lief said, stepping up. "This, I'm sure, is not what the Dark Lord wanted."

"Lief..." Morgan said in a very exhasperated voice, before flicking his wand back over his shoulder.

Lief Bloodmoon abruptly found himself sailing backwards across the room. "Shut up," finished Morgan, who then helped Harry to his feet.

Harry hesitated, then took the offered hand. "He has my father, Harry," Morgan added, not letting go. "My Muggle father. I've never seen him, but joining Voldemort seemed like the only way to save him. I don't forgiveness, but please try to understand why, if only a little."

"I understand," Harry nodding, giving Morgan's hand a squeeze. And he did. "Come with me."

Harry saw movement behind Morgan and quickly yanked them both to the side as blue sparks came flying towards them. The spell did little more than scorch the wall a bit, but the sight of Lief holding the strange wand in his hand again was enough to put Harry on his guard.

"How did he get that?" Harry wondered.

"Time to work that out later," Morgan replied, getting to his feet first. "Find your wand and get out of here. I'll try to hold him off."

Harry took off as Lief and Morgan began throwing hexes and spells at one another, with Lief sending a random jinx Harry's way as he edged towards the shelf opposite the room. None of them came close, as Lief proved to be a particularly poor duelist. He was, however, very light on his feet. This gave him enough of an advantage to stay one step ahead of Morgan, and keep his cousin from blasting him back into another wall again. Harry's things were right where he'd spotted them, including the vial of memory the Oracle had given him in the club. Harry pocketed everything, including his Cloak, then picked his wand up to join Morgan in the fight.

"What are you doing?" Morgan demanded. "I told you to leave!"

"I don't take instructions very well," he answered, quickly forcing Lief into a corner. "It's how I became Quidditch captain."

"I bet," Morgan nodded, as together they disarmed Lief. "What do we do with him? I had planned to only distract the Death Eaters long enough to get away. Leaving behind a witness is sure to cause problems."

Harry agreed, but didn't give his assent for Morgan to perform the Killing Curse. For a moment, he wondered whether it was wise to continue trusting someone who'd just proven themselves a traitor. Still, Harry had told him he understood.

"Let's just tie him up," he suggested, instead. "I... don't want another death on my hands, even if it is a Death Eater."

"Look who's talking," Lief sneered, pointing. "What do you think he is?"

Morgan glanced at Harry. "I never took the Mark," he said at once. "If that's what you're wondering. Voldemort didn't think I was worth putting his touch on. I guess wanting to save my father proved I could be nothing more than cannon fodder. Go figure."

Morgan conjured up ropes to bind Lief with, taking extra care to ensure his cousin's mouth was secured, as well. Following that, he levitated the struggling form up into the rafters, where it bobbed there helplessly near the roof. Every few seconds, Lief's form would drift up to the ceiling like a balloon, causing his head to strike against the hard paneling there. Morgan and Harry couldn't help but snicker as watched.

"The Dark Lord!" he then exclaimed. "He's on his way! We've got to get you out of here."

Both turned, not to leave, but at the sound of the doors bursting open. Morgan froze, while Harry only watched as though he'd privately been expecting Voldemort to stride in confidently with his Death Eaters in tow. Voldemort took one look at the room, not seeing Lief still floating up above them, unable to free himself. Harry had the thought that this would've been nothing more than a minor delay to him, anyway.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort breathed. "It seems young Mr. Bloodguard was surprisingly able to accomplish what others had failed to do before. I may have to release his Muggle father into his custody, after all. What a shame."

Voldemort took his time, taking long, even steps towards Harry, drawing out the effect he was having on the room. Morgan looked pale, but Harry stood there as though he'd met the Dark Lord on a regular basis. He felt calm. It was strange, but not in a bad way. Voldemort should have terrified him, but as the most terrible and feared wizard in a century stopped in front of him, all Harry could think about was what he'd seen in the Oracle's Gazing Bowl.

"You're so quiet, Harry Potter. Haven't you anything to say?"

Voldemort cocked his head a little, as if trying to ready Harry. Harry could feel Voldemort feeling around the edges of his mind, trying to determine from a distance the cause of Harry's lack of fear towards him. Harry knew somehow he was safe from Voldemort going any deeper into his thoughts. It wasn't Occlumency that protected him. Voldemort had only minutes ago tried to enter his mind, and for the second time, had nearly been destroyed by what he found there. Harry could sense the uncertainty in the wizard standing in front of him. Voldemort had wanted him dead for years, yet a part of him now desired to learn how Harry had been able to fight him off so effectively, and from such a distance. Meeting Tom Riddle's eye, Harry smiled confidently, and spoke.

"Yuzuho says hello."

* * * * *

Harry stood there calmly, waiting for those three words to sink in. He'd half expected Voldemort to look terrified at the mention of Yuzuho's name. Some part of him already knew that wouldn't happen, which was why he wasn't caught off-guard when the Dark Lord merely blinked and tilted his head slightly.

"What?"

"Yuzuho," Harry repeated, his face totally relaxed. "That is the name she gave me, so I was assuming you knew her by that, as well. We met this past summer. She had something that I think belonged to you."

Voldemort started into Harry's eyes, as realization hit him. Harry met them without any fear in his heart, knowing he was giving Voldemort the key to overpowering him. Snape had warned him once during one of their disasterous Occlumency lessons that eye contact was essential to probing another wizard's mind. It was strange to think of the Potion's Master now, but Harry knew Voldemort posed no threat to him this way, that it was impossible for him to overshadow Harry's mind without suffering the consequences. Rather than Voldemort entering his mind, Harry found himself grasping at fragments of the Dark Lord's thoughts.

Voldemort was remembering flying through the skies just recently, and the stabbing pain that wracked through his body when Harry had lashed out with the only weapon he possessed. That power had been terrible, but to Harry's own shock, it had also interested the Dark Lord a great deal. Voldemort, he saw in the depths of those emotionless, snake-eyed pupils, had no intention of killing Harry for the moment.

This was a first. Harry relaxed, and let the image of Yuzuho enter his head. Voldemort blinked first as the thought transmitted between them. Harry knew the minute the Dark Lord recognized her. He could feel the terror in his heart, and pushed another image from his memory through into Voldemort's mind. Like still frames, Harry passed along flashbulb scenes from Yuzuho's last moments alive. Deliberately, he left out anything to do with Rayne. There was more than enough there to get his point across, anyway.

The Death Eaters had gathered round in a circle, meanwhile. The vast majority had been expecting a grandious confrontation, not unlike that which had occured two years ago in the cemetary. Many of them had expected their Master to sweep in and finish Harry off with some awful display of power and ferociousness. A staring contest had been, to say the least, at the bottom of the list. A handful had taken point on various sides of Morgan, keeping him contained after carefully stripping him of his wand. Morgan, for the better part, paid them no mind. His attention remained focused on what was going on in front of them. Unlike the others, Morgan could sense something else was happening.

"She's dead," Harry confirmed out loud. "She mentioned that you had met a few years ago."

"How?" Voldemort demanded.

"I'm sorry?"

"How did you manage to kill her? You're just a..."

"The Heart of Grindelwald," he answered. "At least, that was what Dumbledore had called it. It gave her a new lease on life, but Dumbledore had tried to destroy it. All it did was burn his hand up and break off a small piece. I threw that piece of it into the Veil."

"You're lying!"

Harry spotted his chance, and ran with it. "You are the one people say can tell when they're being lied to. The whole wizarding world knows that. It's one of the things that made everyone so afraid of you. How could I possibly be lying."

Voldemort considered Harry again. "Something has changed about you. You are... different."

"There's never been anything different about me," he said. "I'm just Harry."

"No! No!" Voldemort insisted, aiming his wand at Harry's chest. "This is not like the last time. You are different from then. I remember the cowardly boy who hid behind tombstones and statues instead of facing me head on. I remember the boy who ran to others so that they would do the fighting for him. Tell me, Harry Potter, where is that boy now? You, there is something dark about you now."

A light came on in Voldemort's eyes. "Ahh, but of course. You've killed."

Harry swallowed, but kept his eyes on the Dark Lord, determinedly. "I'm not proud of what I did. I... didn't mean to."

"Oh, but didn't you enjoy it? You're first kill! Dumbledore must have been so proud."

A few of the Death Eaters behind them snickered. Voldemort ignored them and kept his focus on Harry. "Tell me, do you know who it was that you killed?"

"I thought you would," Harry replied. "He was a Death Eater. It happened at Hogsmeade when you sent the Inferi and Dementors."

Voldemort grinned. "And did he hurt someone you cared about? Was your motivation in killing him revenge, or was there some other reason? Come now, Harry. This is a grand moment for us all. The famous Harry Potter has taken the life of another wizard. You have finally become a man."

Harry glanced down at the tip of Voldemort's wand, still pointed at his heart, then looked calmly back up at his face. "I could take your life now, Harry Potter," Voldemort went on, making a grand show of gestures with his free hand. "I could spare you the pain of ever having to do that again, if you'd like. You would be just another martyr for Dumbledore's cause. There are so many of them by now, perhaps you wouldn't stand out. I think you'd much perfer a simple death over anything else."

"You won't kill me."

The Dark Lord froze. "What did you just say?"

"You won't kill me," Harry repeated. "At this point, I wonder if you even can. You tried to when I was a year old, and it cost you a body. The Killing Curse backfired and blew your body to pieces along with most of my parent's house. You tried again twice when I was in my first year, and couldn't even lay a hand on me. In the graveyard, I got away again, and last year down in the Ministry of Magic..."

"Silence!"

Voldemort pressed the tip of his wand against Harry's throat. "Do you have any idea what I can do to you, Harry Potter? I can make you beg for death. I understand magics of all kind, and know spells that could do things to you that not even your worst nightmares would fathom. I don't quite understand yet where this brash bravado has come from, but it will be most interesting to take my time destroying it piece by piece. How does that make you feel?"

Harry blinked. "Yuzuho was scarier."

It felt like the whole room was holding it's breath. Voldemort considered Harry for a moment, then withdrew his wand and backed away. No one in the room would look at him; all the Death Eaters had their eyes fixed on Harry. Morgan watched him especially close, as though waiting for some kind of signal. Looking around, Voldemort turned and waved the Death Eaters there away.

"Go," he ordered, opening the doors behind them with a wave of his wand. "Bring Lestrade here to me now!"

Several of them broke into a run as they passed through the doors, anxious to leave. The remaining Death Eaters looked to one another, clearly uncomfortable with this sudden turn of events. Some began whispering to each other quietly. Voldemort saw this as he turned back around, and took aim. A flash of green light lit up the room momentarily. When it was over, one of the robed figures was lying on the floor in a crumpled heap.

"Does anyone else have something they would like to add?" he challenged. No one moved. "I should hope not, because tonight, we are finally going to establish something once and for all. I realize there have been some doubts among our ranks. I don't begrudge them. Where I in any of your shoes, I would have certain questions of my own about recent events. The difference here, however, is that I am not one of you."

Voldemort abruptly turned to stare Harry in the face. "I am Lord Voldemort," he stated. "And I am the greatest sorcerer who has ever lived. I have mastered magic too powerful for any other wizard to comprehend. I alone began the journey towards immortality, forsaking all else for the chance to explore and conquer the last known enemy of our kind."

"Death is not the enemy," Harry countered, interrupting him.

"Spoken like a martyr for Dumbledore's cause," Voldemort replied. "If death is not the enemy, Mr. Potter, then how do you explain this?"

Voldemort held his wand up again. Opening his palm, he levitated the stick a few inches off his hand. "With this," he whispered. "I murdered your parents."

"My lord," someone called out from behind. "Lestrade is here per your command."

Voldemort's spidery fingers closed down around his wand as it fell out of the air into his hand. With a flick, Harry found himself unable to move. As he struggled, Voldemort swept out of the way to reveal a tall, cloaked figure with ruby red eyes and sharp teeth. The vampire took several steps forward until he was standing in front of Harry.

"Lestrade, I brought you here to help us test a theory this evening," Voldemort told him. "I want for you to drain this boy's life from him. Do not take too much, or cause any lasting damage. That pleasure belongs to me. Still, feel free to enjoy."

Lestrade the vampire grinned, exposing his fangs to Harry, who gulped. "We're going to try something different," Voldemort went on. "My various attempts to destroy Harry Potter with my own magic have been met with less than productive results. However, if I have understood what happen the night of our first meeting correctly, Mr. Potter, the protection your mother gave you when she died is bound into your blood. The exact same blood I took from you in order to restore myself, as I recall. Now, I wonder what would happen if there were a considerable less amount of that blood flowing through your veins. Would that, then, allow me the chance to finally take your life?"

Lestrade had leaned in as Voldemort spoke, and now his fangs broke the skin at the base of Harry's throat. Harry felt the vampire sucking away at his blood as Voldemort went on. Some of the Death Eaters cheered now as his life slipped away. He could feel the room slipping away now. As this occured, a strange sensation began rushing through him, as if a cold sun had sprouted in his stomach and now poured out into the rest of his body. Harry felt his scar burn. The air around him popped and fizzled. With a jolt, he realized he could move, and quickly seized Lestrade by his wrists. The vampire threw his head back away from Harry's bleeding throat in response and howled in pain.

Harry saw that he had Lestrade's wrists were broken. He'd crushed them somehow when he grabbed the vampire. In shock, he shoved the bloodsucker away, only to cause Lestrade to go flying across the floor and into several Death Eaters, all of which fell over like dominos one after the other.

Harry turned around in a full circle to face the room. Everyone, including Morgan, stared as though they couldn't believe what they were seeing. After a brief pause, however, Morgan managed to compose himself and slid out of the robe he'd been wearing.

"I guess this means we're leaving," he said, nonchalantly.

Falling down on all fours, Morgan's clothes melted away as fur sprang from his body. In a flash, the wolf that had lurked in the shadows before had returned, and bit the first Death Eater he could get his teeth into. Taking the intitative, Harry charged forward and lunged at the Dark Lord, who sent a curse his way. For Harry, it looked as though Voldemort was moving in slow motion. Without missing a beat, he twisted his body out of the way and dodged it, letting the curse strike one of the Death Eaters behind him. The curse sent purple flames several. Everyone who was touched by them began screaming.

Voldemort was staring openly in surprise now. "What are you?" he demanded. "What have you become?"

"Like I said before," he shrugged, stretching like a prize-fighter. "I'm just Harry."

_Author's Note:_

_I don't normally do this, but since it's been so long since my last OoFS update, I thought I should explain things. My mother was diagnosed with an unusual muscle deterioration disease near the end of last year, and it has made her unable to move around properly. This is commonly a disease that results as a side-effect of having cancer, but no cancerous tissue has been found in her... yet. Also, the upper half of her colon exploded the weekend before Christmas. She underwent surgery that day, and spent all of Christmas, New Years, and part of January in the hospital recouperating. In addition, she is diabetic. They also found a blood clot in her right knee. My credit card was also stolen and the company still hasn't resolved the issue yet, leaving me with a bill of almost five hundred dollars. I just recently found a job, but the ball joint on my vehicle ruptured and had to be fixed, leaving me in debt with a close friend. Another dear friend and father figure was incarcerated on false charges and still hasn't been released. I have tried helping him out as best I can, but with my current financial situation, it looks as though I won't be able to send him money or books for a long while. Some good news is that I did find a new job at long last, meaning that I can hopefully get out of my money crisis and back into the swing of things. With all this, I hope everyone can understand why I didn't update for two or three months._

_Thanks_


	24. Chapter 24 The New Headmaster

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 24

_**The New Headmaster**_

by Ri-kun

Voldemort's eyes swept the room. The other Death Eaters were currently preoccupied, either by the out-of-control flames caused by his missed spell, or due to Morgan in his wolf form tearing at the remainder of them. Harry stood before him, calculating. His new form caused his eyes to glow, as though shimmering with newfound excitement. His skin, pale as marble and looking just as sturdy by the veins bursting out underneath, glowed in the battle-torn chamber.

To Harry's surprise, Voldemort lowered his wand.

"Amazing," he whispered. "Fantastic."

No one contradicted him. "Join me, Harry Potter."

Harry was so shocked, he almost dropped to the floor. "I asked you that once before," Voldemort reminded him. "But only because it seemed the quickest way to obtain the Philosopher's Stone. I had no need for a weak child, then. Look at you now, though."

"You killed my parents," Harry reminded him. "My father first, and then my mother as she begged you to spare me."

"I... regret that," Voldemort replied, warily. "Now."

"Because you know I'm a threat. But then, I've always been a threat to you. My name was at the top of your list from the day I was born. If it weren't for you, I could have had a normal life."

Harry stalked towards Voldemort now, who backed away from him slowly. "I could have been happy!"

"You still can!" Voldemort held his hands up. "Think of what I can show you. To conquer Death itself; that has always been my ultimate goal, the goal of all my followers. Why should we as wizards suffer the same pain and disgrace that Muggles do, when the world has so much to offer us? Why should you go on living your life, never knowing what you could have had with your mother and father?"

Harry stopped. "They can't come back," he stated, empty of emotion. "Nothing will bring them back."

"Don't be naive, Harry Potter. I've come so close to achieving my goals already. With more time, after the Ministry and Dumbledore aren't obstacles to me anymore, I could easily complete my experiements. And you! Look at yourself now. Are you the boy who cowarded before me all those years ago? Come and stand by my side now. I feel that destiny has always intended for it to be this way. How else could you have survived this long?"

"Destiny..."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed hopefully as Harry looked past him at nothing. "The only things Destiny has planned for me," Harry spat. "Is to become a victim or a killer. Given those prospects, I think I'll take either one over joining you."

Voldemort snarled and fired another hex. This one was a familiar green, but Harry moved out of the way again, somehow. The spell struck the backside of a Death Eater that was attempting to wrestle Morgan in his wolf form off of him. The instant the spell connect, he went limp and fell to the floor with Morgan on top, still gnawing away as the corpse's wand arm.

Harry raised his own wand, and without uttering a sound, fired a blast straight at Voldemort. The Dark Lord attempted to shield from it, but the blast carried all of Harry's rage and disgust. When it met the barrier conjured between them, there was a loud shattering sound like breaking glass. Harry was thunderstruck as Voldemort was literally blown away through a door. The remaining Death Eaters turned at the crash echoing from the Dark Lord's departure through a thick wooden door and stared openly.

Morgan raised up, covered in cuts and burns from different spells, and took off through it. Harry followed suite, fast on his tail. They both trodded over Voldemort, who was just getting to his feet and cried out from the pain. Serious as the situation was, Harry couldn't help but laugh. Halfway down a flight of stairs, Morgan shifted back to his human form and looked around at Harry.

"This way!" he said, motioning. "I know a way out of here."

Together, they ran to the end of the staircase and through a different corridor. Morgan seized his hand and pulled him into a nearby study, waving his wand as they entered the room to open a nearby bookcase.

"Through there," he instructed, not letting go of Harry.

"I think I hear them coming," Harry said, looking back.

"Don't worry. We'll be long gone before they ever catch us."

Harry decided to trust him and followed as Morgan led him down through a dark, narrow hallway. At the other then, a different revolving opening led them to another room, one thinly furnished. Harry glanced around as Morgan released his hand to walk over to a nearby cabinet. It almost looked like one of the rooms at the Burrow. Here and there were a few odd children's toys, clearly intended for Muggles.

"Where are we?" Harry wondered.

"The servants' quarters," Morgan replied, tapping at the cabinet impatiently. "And," he added, almost as an afterthought. "My bedroom."

Harry admired one of the toys on the dresser for a moment. "He gave these to you," Harry guessed. "Your father, I mean."

"When I was little," Morgan admitted, not turning around. "I haven't heard from him in years. For all I know, he's forgotten all about... Here we go!"

Morgan jumped back out of the way as the cabinet doors swung open. "Vanishing Cabinet," he explained, as Harry wandered over. "There's another one in a cabin over on the far side of the lake, outside the range of the Anti-Apparation wards. We can use it to escape."

"Does anyone else know about it?"

"Leif does," Morgan admitted, as Harry spotted a mirror over in the corner. "He was the one who found it, actually. He used to come down here and shove me inside it for fun. I'd come out on the other side, not understanding what had happened. After I figured out the trick to it, he made me show him how. Assuming they bothered to get him down off the ceiling, he might think of it... eventually. Which means we should be..."

Morgan saw Harry was no longer next to him. "Harry?"

Harry was looking into the mirror. "Bloody hell," he whispered in shock. "What's happening to me?"

Harry gazed at his pale reflection for a moment. His eyes, shining a bright red, looked as though they could have drilled a gaping crater right through him. His hair had somehow been peppered with streaks of white in it, matching the same pale color of his flesh. And his mouth...

Bloody hell! He had fangs!

Morgan grabbed him by the hand again. "Time enough to figure that one out later," he insisted, pulling Harry along. "For now, we need to get out of here. In case you'd forgotten, we've got a Dark Lord and several half-cooked Death Eaters on our tails!"

Morgan finished by tossing Harry into the cabinet and jumping in after him, closing the doors with a wave. There was a suddenly whooshing sound in their ears. To Harry, it felt like the bottom had just dropped right out from under them. He opened his mouth to shout, but the feeling was just as suddenly over. Feeling dizzy, Harry stumbled out of the cabinet and into the moonlight.

Morgan followed suite and glanced around. They were standing inside an old cabin that had definitely seen better days. The walls looks as though they were ready to crumble at any second. One section of them on Harry's right had already done so. The moonlight was coming in via several gaping holes in the roof. Looking up at it, Harry spotted one of his hands and held it up. It was now pink and flesh-colored, exactly the way it should look. Morgan nodded as he stepped over to where Harry was, carefully avoiding the fallen debris littered around.

"Looks like it sorted you out alright," he confirmed. "Maybe it was just a fluke or some sort?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted, checking himself over just to be sure. "Where did you learn to become an Animagus?"

"I... sort of picked up on it." Morgan didn't meet Harry's eyes as he said this. "There were some books left alone in my stepfather's study. They looked like no one had touched them in years. I don't think anyone else in the Bloodmoon house had been able to master it. The Bloodmoon's used to be known for having a second form. They were all great Animaguses; some even say they were the first ones to master the art, though I think that's quite a load of dung beatles. Anyway, I nicked them away and started looking through them. The rest was easy."

Morgan finally met Harry's face. "I wouldn't believe that story, either, if it were me," he said. "But it's the truth this time, honest."

"I know," he replied, laughing a little. "You're not the first person who worked it out that way."

"So," Morgan said, after a pause. "Does this mean you're going to turn me over to the Improper Use of Magic office for being an unregistered Animagus along with Dumbledore for being a spy?"

"Who said I was turning you over to anyone?" Harry said, taking Morgan by the arm. "I doubt anyone in the Ministry has paid attention to that list of supposed registered Animagus in years. And as for Dumbledore..."

Harry stopped. "You did say this place was outside the Anti-Apparation wards, right?"

Morgan nodded just as the Vanishing Cabinet behind them started rattling. "Oh no, it's them!" he gasped. "They must've worked it out."

Harry tightened his grip on Morgan's arm, feeling the right pocket under his robes go hot in the process. It was a familiar feeling, but there wasn't any time to think about it. Harry closed his eyes and envisioned the Gryffindor tower. He shouldn't have been able to go there. Some part of him knew that, but his gut and the spreading fire from the heavy weight in the side of his robes urged him onward. There was the familiar feeling of his body being forced through a rubber tubing, followed by what could have been the loudest 'pop' in history. Somehow, as they vanished from sight, he knew Voldemort and the Death Eaters had emerged from the cabinet just in time to see them disappear. Where he and Morgan were going, though, they would never be able to follow.

Sure enough, when Harry opened his eyes, they were standing in his dormatory, right next to his bed where the Apparation Circle had been drawn underneath. At once, Harry pulled out the Invisibility Cloak and tossed it to Morgan.

"Put that on," he ordered. "Before someone sees you up here."

Morgan complied without a word, and was out of sight in seconds. "Now follow me and keep up," he told him. "We've got to get you out of here."

Morgan seized him by his robes before he could take off. "What do you think you're going to tell them?" he asked, from beneath the Cloak. "You snuck out of the castle to chase after Malfoy, and then got captured. Don't you think people will be just a little bit suspicious?"

"Not really," he replied, calmly. "This is Gryffindor. Stuff like this happens all the time. People have gotten used to it."

Though Harry couldn't see it, he had a strong suspicious that Morgan was staring at him incredulously. "Okay, second question. How did you manage to Apparate us both all the way up here through the wards and protection spells? No one, even the Dark Lord, should be able to do that."

Harry sighed. "It's a long story, and I'll explain it in more detail later, but... there's an Apparation Circle underneath that rug over there."

Morgan looked to where Harry pointed. "But you need another circle to establish a link between the two." Morgan sounded a little smug at the look on Harry's face. "I come from a family of Dark Wizards, Harry. Everyone knows Apparation Circles are considered very Dark magic because of how easily they can be misused. How very un-Gryffindor of you to have one."

Harry frowned. "I don't know exactly how we got out of there," he admitted, reaching through his robes. "But a have a hunch."

Morgan looked down to where Harry's hand was. "You've got a feeling in your..."

Harry opened the door and cut him off. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

To Harry's own amazement, the Gryffindor common room was completely empty save for one sleeping second year over in a corner by the fireplace. Harry stopped at the bottom of the steps, wondering where everyone could be, and felt Morgan walk into him.

"Sorry," he heard Morgan say. "It's just that, I've never seen a different common room than the one for Slytherin. How come it's so warm up here?"

"The Sytherin common room is a dungeon," Harry reminded him, heading for the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Dungeons are generally drafty to begin with, and there aren't nearly enough fireplaces down there to keep it warm enough."

"Tell me about it. The Slytherins say it was because Dumbledore had them removed so house-elves could..." Morgan stopped again. "Wait a second. How do you know anything about the Slytherin common room."

Harry said nothing as he swung the Fat Lady's portrait open for them, but Morgan could see the guilty look on his face. "Let me guess. It's another equally long story?"

"Not as embarassing as it was for Crabbe and Goyle," he said, gesturing for Morgan to move it. "Though, it was fun making Malfoy look like a dolt."

"Really? This one I have to hear. Tell me."

"Later," Harry said, holding the robes up. "Here, let me get up under there."

"Why?" Morgan wondered, moving aside. Between the two of them, there wasn't much room left. Harry could remember when he could have fit himself, Hermione, and Ron underneath the Cloak and have room to spare. Thinking of them made him swallow back a lump in his throat, but something told Harry this was important.

"See this?" he said, holding up a small vial. "It's a message from the Oracle."

"From who?"

"I..." Harry began, but Morgan waved him away.

"Long story. I get it. So, what's it say?"

"I don't know yet, but I've seen something like this before. It's a memory from someone else's mind. We need a Pensieve to look at it, and unfortunately, there's only one place I know of that we can use."

Harry led Morgan through the castle. It was an eerie journey together, as the castle felt horribly empty. It was clearly mid-morning, yet each classroom they passed by was devoid of anyone. The unease in Harry's stomach grew worse with each step, until he had to stop and take a breath. It occured to him that he hadn't had anything to eat in some time now. His stomach gave a rather loud gurgle, one that Morgan chuckled at, before his own began to growl.

"Maybe we should find something to eat," he suggested. "Do you know the way down to the kitchens?"

"I've got something even better," he replied, feeling it was his turn to be a little smug. "In here."

Harry dragged them into one of the nearby empty classrooms and shut the door. "Dobby," he whispered. "Dobby, if you can hear me, I need you."

A loud crack, made even more so by the silence, rang throughout the room. "Dobby is here, Lord Potter, sir!" Dobby squeaked, appearing directly in front of him with a salute. "Ready and able to serve Lord Potter in any way he can."

Morgan went slack-jawed. "How did you do that?"

"Dobby is Chief Lieutenant of the Honor Guard of the Sock Lord," Dobby replied. "And are you a friend of Lord Potter, sir? If so, then please allow Dobby to serve you in any way he can."

"Um, thanks!" Morgan answered. Something occured to him, then. "Hold up. Did you just say you were a lieutenant of... the Sock Lord?!"

"Yes, sirs. Harry Potter is the Sock Lord over all elves who desire freedom from the evil Dark Lord who's name must never be spoken."

Dobby gave another salute, almost with reverant zeal. Morgan, however, looked as though he might suffer a hernia from laughing too hard. Harry ignored him, and placed his full attention on Dobby, who had begun trembling from holding his small frame in such a rigid position.

"At ease," Harry instructed, as Morgan kept on gasping. "Lieutenant."

This only sent Morgan into more fits. Feeling grateful that Fred and George weren't around, Harry went on. "Listen, Dobby. This is very important. What's happened to everyone here at Hogwarts? There's no one out in the halls, and the classrooms are empty. It's too quiet."

Dobby nodded. "Yes sirs, Lord Potter. And Dobby is well and grateful to see his Lord is well, for there have been terrible stories of Harry Potter's fate in these walls. People talk of Lord Potter having vanished in the night. Tales of Harry Potter having been kidnapped by the Dark Lord himself. Dobby was sure these were untrue, but to be certain, he assembled some of the other house-elves loyal to his cause to mobilize in case such a terrible thing had happened. Dobby must go tell them soon that Harry Potter is safe and home at Hogwarts."

Morgan raised up, having finally gotten over his laughing fits. "They must have put the school on high alert when you disappeared," he surmised. "Classes would have been canceled, as well."

"Indeed," Dobby nodded. "Harry Potter's friends were ready to leave at once, but then Dumbledore ordered them confined. To prevent them from leaving, he said."

"Confined? Where?"

"The Come and Go Room," Dobby said, looking sudden very forlorn. "Also known to you as the Room of Requirement. Dobby has been to see Lord Potter's friends many times, to make sure they are safe and has everything they could need, but of course, the Room itself provides all for them, except..."

"Except?"

Dobby stared down at the floor, ashamed. "Harry Potter's friends asked Dobby many times to free them, but Dobby was unable to. Dumbledore had made the room to where none but himself could open it. Dobby is a house-elf of Hogwarts now, so he is free to come and go where he pleases, but even Dobby cannot go against the will of the headmaster of Hogwarts. Such ancient magic, even Dobby himself cannot thwart."

It would have been strange to hear Dobby use the word 'thwart', but then Dobby threw himself to the ground, sobbing. "Dobby has failed his master Harry's friends. Dobby will accept any punishment his Lord commands, for Dobby has surely earned it!"

"Stop it, Dobby," Harry commanded. Then, his voice softened slightly. "You're a free house-elf. You serve no one but those you chose to, and for however long you think you need to. No one will ever make you punish yourself again."

"Harry Potter..." Dobby gasped softly, raising up with tears in his eyes. "Harry Potter is good to Dobby. He is right."

"I never knew a house-elf coud want freedom," Morgan said, looking confused. "I was always told... well, that they liked it."

"Listen, Dobby. This is very important." Harry held up the vial of memory for Dobby to see. "You said that you could get into the Room of Requirement. I need a Pensieve to have a look at this, and the only one I know of here at Hogwarts is in Dumbledore's office. But, if you could get me into the Room of Requirement, it might provide me with one. Then, we can try and work out some way of getting the others free."

Dobby nodded. "The Room most likely would, but Dobby is not sure if the Room would allow Harry Potter to enter. It's power is something beyond even we house-elves can understand. It might be easier altogether if Dobby simply took Harry Potter to Dumbledore's office himself."

Harry blinked. "You can do that?"

"Of course," Dobby said, as if it were no big deal. "Harry Potter can see for himself."

It wasn't like being forced through rubber tubing, at least. That was something to be thankful for. Dobby merely snapped his fingers, and after a bit of a rush, like going through the Vanishing Cabinet that Morgan had shown him, he found himself standing in the middle of Dumbledore's office. Harry felt light-headed enough that it took a moment for him to be sure. Morgan, it seemed, recovered much more quickly.

"How did he do that? I mean, the Anti-Apparation wards..."

Dobby shrugged. "Dobby may come and go as he pleases at Hogwarts, and take whatever he feels he needs with him. It is not a big thing for us house-elves to move objects with us."

"Dumbledore's not here," Harry noticed, seeing the large desk ahead of them empty for once. "Let's make this quick, in case he comes back. McGonagal told me he spends a lot of time in his office these days."

"Why are we sneaking around?" Morgan wondered, following after Harry. "I thought Dumbledore liked you. Malfoy always used to complain to anyone who would listen that you were his favorite, his pet. Why do we need to worry about getting caught up here? Can't you just ask him if you could borrow it?"

Harry ignored him for the moment and pulled the heavy Pensieve down from the cabinet. "I have my reasons," he said, setting it on the floor. "And I hope I'm wrong."

"Like what?" Morgan was terribly confused now. Harry focused his attention on pouring the memory from the vial into the rune-covered bowl. "You could just tell him that you're back and he'd let the others go. Why do we have to sneak around this way?"

"Because..." Harry hesitated, as the memory settled into the Pensieve. "We might not be dealing with Dumbledore."

It had been a growing fear in the pit of his stomach from the moment they'd returned to Hogwarts. Truthfully, he had wondered for some time now, but was reluctant to voice his fears. Since meeting the Oracle, Harry had learned that things were rarely what they seemed to be. And now, as he prepared to dive head-first into the clue she'd given him, he had the strong suspicion that many of the recent mysteries surrounding his life were about to be solved. The stone in his pocket, the one he couldn't remember taking with him, seemed to pulsate and throb in response, as though sensing his thoughts. With that, Harry plunged his head down into the smokey liquid, and felt himself being pulled into it. Regardless of whether he found answers here or not, Harry already knew they would only lead him to more questions.

* * * * *

Harry was standing in the center of Dumbledore's office again. Even though he knew this was a memory, his eyes nonetheless wandered over to the cabinet where he'd left Morgan and Dobby standing a second ago. It was, confirming his suspicions, vacant. The doors to the cabinet were closed, assuring him that this was the past, shown from someone else's viewpoint. As if in response, voices began drifting towards him.

Harry turned around calmly this time and waited. The door to the headmaster's office swung open moments later, allowing two figures Harry recognized in, along with a third that made his stomach churn. Though he hadn't seen the man in years, there was little doubt in Harry's mind that this was Alberforth, Dumbledore's estranged younger brother. This seemed to confirm what he'd already guessed, though Harry remained steadfast where he was as all three figures marched right through him.

"Remind me again, Albus," the Oracle said, leaning against one of the bookcases near his desk. "Why should either of us help you?"

Albus looked sadly over at the Oracle. "You know as well as I do that our time is short. Why must you make this so difficult for me? It isn't as though I like it anymore than you do."

"Yes, you've made it quite clear all this time. What you think of my... advice. I remember."

"You've finally gotten yourself into a situation even your smarts cannot solve," Alberforth stated flatly, gesturing to Dumbledore's blackened, shriveled hand. "Now the boy's turned on you, and I can't say I blame him. After everything you've done in the name of helping him, he's finally wisened up. What made you think you could keep him under control forever is beyond me."

"I don't require lecturing from either of you," said the headmaster, angrily now. "This is serious. My time may very well be short. If Harry is to complete his task as I've intended it, then I've no choice to but to leave. Hogwarts cannot be abandoned, and you two are the only ones I trust enough to secure such a task to."

"You have a deputy headmistress," the Oracle reminded him. "This is in her job description, not either of ours."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Professor McGonagal could never ask of Harry what needs to be done. She would make a fine headmistress, but not a guide to lead Harry on the proper path. I fear she's grown far too fond of him through the years. My fault, I'm afraid."

"So, you can admit it," the Oracle sarcastically gasped. "A shame it's too little, too late. Alberforth and I have already made our decision. Neither of us plan to get involved in your scheming. I was too young the first time you attempted something like this, but Alberforth remembers well the trouble it caused."

"I can speak for myself," Alberforth replied, irritably. "But, she's right, Albus. You tried to convince me once before that you knew best, and our mother paid the price. She tried to warn you!" Alberforth turned to the Oracle. "They both did, but you wouldn't listen. This time, I'm doing what I should have done all those years ago."

Alberforth turned to walk away. "Stop!" Dumbledore demanded. "Alberforth, don't force me to take extreme measures. I can force you, if you leave me no other option."

Alberforth looked stunned, but the Oracle quickly moved to his side. "You won't," she said, calmly. "Not unless you want the both of us to reveal the truth about you. I wonder how your deputy headmistress would react to finding out everything there is to know concerning your past. You know I've always suspected her loyalty to you as being a mask to hide how much she really cares. Do you think those feelings would change if she knew everything?"

The room blurred away as Harry felt himself rising upward. He saw Morgan and Dobby standing a few feet away as his head was drawn out of the Pensieve. The headmaster was there, looking down at him neutrally. Harry saw the headmaster's hand, both looking pristine.

"Nice of you to return to us, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you," Harry nodded, speaking very calmly. "Alberforth."


	25. Chapter 25 Goodbye, Hogwarts!

_Harry Potter_

_and the_

_Oracle of Four Seasons_

Chapter 25

_**Goodbye, Hogwarts!**_

by Ri-kun

"I feel like I should have seen it before now," Harry said, his back straight and eyes level with Dumbledore's brother. "Probably, I did, and just wouldn't let myself think about it. That's why you seemed too eager at first, offering to teach me potions yourself. You needed a reason to keep me close, but that went against Dumbledore's plans. For one thing, you don't know the first bit about teaching potions. And secondly, there was too big a risk involved."

Alberforth said nothing as Harry faced him across his desk, Morgan standing beside him. "Dumbledore was afraid I might pick up on something. He thought if you spent too much time around me, that I would guess you were someone else. You must have been miffed, but in the end, who could argue with Dumbledore?"

Alberforth still said nothing. "Where is he?" Harry demanded.

"I don't know."

Harry was surprised by the quickness, the abruptness of his answer. "As in, you don't know where he is, or you don't know what I'm talking about?"

"I don't know," Alberforth repeated, sounding drawn out. "Dumbledore never told me anything more than what he felt was necessary. He said he would be away for some time, that he'd stay in contact with me, and that I should keep an especially close watch on you. For your own safety, of course, but also because he felt you were getting a little too carried away with yourself."

Alberforth paused, considering Harry for a moment. "I thought he was getting paranoid. Now, it looks like he had good reason. You have no idea how refreshing it is to see my brother finally outsmarted, and by one of his own students no less. My life could be called complete now."

Harry shook his head. "Dumbledore outsmarted himself more, I think," he countered. "You were acting too much like how Dumbledore did when he and I first met. I kept thinking something was strange, but there were other things to worry about. Guess I should have paid attention before now. If it weren't for that memory, I might never have worked it all out."

"Don't sell yourself short," Alberforth said insistantly, as he stood up. "Albus counts on people to do that to themselves. That's how he gets his way with everybody; it's how he's gotten his way with me for years now. I kept telling myself that I'd find the courage to stand up to him, but it always came down to the fact that he was cleverer than me. No matter what, I would never be as smart as him. He knew that."

"Why are you here now, then?" Harry asked, as Alberforth stood with his back to them. "What made you change your mind?"

Alberforth said nothing for a moment, and Harry wondered briefly if he would. When he finally answered, it was in a tone filled with resignation, like he'd given up after a long, hard fight. "Nothing," he whispered softly. "There just didn't seem any point in fighting him. I used to have this idea that I could go somewhere, find some place that he'd never think of looking for me in, and stay there. It was such a silly, childish dream. When Albus insisted, I came back here to help him with the Order. You boys would do wise to stay away from that bit of bad business, incidentally. The Order of the Phoenix has darker roots than you know."

"Because of Grindelwald," Harry stated.

Alberforth whirled around in surprise. "Who told you that?" he wondered, looking very afraid.

"Ask your sister, Reinette," he replied, evasively. "She should be down at Hogsmeade right now. That's another thing I feel like I missed, but then again, she does a lot better job of keeping a low profile."

Harry hesitated for a moment, then continued speaking. At this point, he might as well be straightforward. "She told me no one would remember anything about that night. I wasn't sure I believed her, but if you remember Grindelwald there at that castle in the sky, but not me, she must have erased all your memories. I bet she foresaw me coming."

Alberforth didn't look quite as shocked as Harry had expected him to, but he quickly decided that wasn't important. "Was she always able to see people's futures?" he pressed. "Or did she learn to, like how Professor Trewlawney claims people can?"

"Reinette," Alberforth spoke softly. "None of us have spoken in so long, and when Albus invited us here, I was sure it wasn't for a family get-together. No, she was always able to know things. As a child, she would sometimes stare at people, and guess at something that had just happened to them. Mother thought it an embarassment, but since so many pure-blood families were losing the unique talents that had been their claim to fame, she played it up like it was a special talent from her side. People bought it, but Reinette didn't like performing for people. Albus was our mother's favorite, so willing to bask in the limelight for her sake."

"Wow," Morgan mumbled. "And I thought my family was screwed up."

"You say she erased our memories?" Alberforth pressed, ignoring Morgan. "There were several times that Grindelwald visited us, but I can think of only one time where we were all at the summer castle, and that was years before your parents were born."

"Ask Reinette," Harry repeated. "To be honest, I really don't know how she managed it, but the Time-Turner Grindelwald had stolen was how I got back. She had told me before I left that I would have to find my own way home. When I saw it, I knew that was what she'd meant by."

Alberforth looked blank-faced. "I simply don't remember."

"Good," said Harry. "If you don't, then there's a chance Dumbledore doesn't, either."

After a moment's silence, Harry spoke up again. "What is the Heart of Grindelwald for?"

"What?" Alberforth said, startled. "Who told you about that?"

"No one. I found it with a nest of vampires this past summer. A vampire queen was planning to use it in a resurrection ceremony. She said it was called the Heart of Darkness, but had also been called the Heart of Grindelwald before. Did Grindelwald make it for something specific?"

"Magic cannot revive the dead," Alberforth insisted. "Even Dumbledore knew that."

"She had been a vampire before," he explained, quickly. "Someone drove a stake through her chest, but missed part of the heart. Her body decayed, but her ghost... Look, it's a really long story."

"Could you tell me later?" Morgan pressed, interested. "This sounds facinating."

"I can't believe it," Alberforth whispered, more to himself than anyone else in the room. "He knew all this time. He knew, and kept it a secret from us. That dirty, bastard, son of a ghost knew, and didn't tell us!"

"What did he know?" Harry asked, suddenly very interested. "What did Dumbledore keep secret?"

"At this point," Morgan went on. "A better question would be, what didn't he?"

Alberforth looked at each of them, wearing a grave expression. Slowly, Harry began to get a crawling suspicion that they were in trouble, far worse trouble than anything McGonagal or even Snape had thrown his way. At that moment, he knew Morgan and himself needed to get out of there, for Alberforth was reaching into the sleeve of his robe. Harry spotted something long and wooden, and raised his own wand. Alberforth was faster, however, and disarmed him with a silent wave.

"I might not be as clever as my brother," Alberforth warned. "But you don't spend so many years around Albus Dumbledore without picking up a thing or two. You, drop your wand and put your hands up where I can see them. Both of you, now."

Slowly, cursing himself the whole time, Harry did as he was told. Morgan seemed a bit more compliant, but a quick glance told Harry that he had a plan. Just as Morgan's arms stretched as high as they would go, he leaned forward and shifted to his wolf form. Alberforth didn't seem all that impressed, and just stood there as Morgan charged him. Before he reached the acting headmaster, however, something blocked his path. An invisible wall of some kind sprang up between them, stopping Morgan cold with a sick thud.

"Albus thought I needed extra protection," Alberforth explained, waving his wand to levitate Morgan back. "Though I loathe it when he's right, you really can't fault his sense of style. Sorry to have to do this to the both of you, but you know far too much. I'll have to put you away somewhere for now until I decide the two of you can keep your mouths shut."

"You can't do this," Harry said, imploringly. "There are other people out there who will come looking for me, other members of the Order of the Phoenix!"

The mention of the Order seemed to push Alberforth over the edge. "The Oder," he growled. "Albus would like to think he's redeemed the name by now. He'd like to think he's redeemed a lot of things, but some of them are going to come crashing down on him. I don't need any special gifts or intellect to work that out. Anyone could see that if they bothered to."

A familiar glint appeared in Alberforth's eyes. "The Order won't be able to help you. Where you're going, no one will."

* * * * *

"I have to say, I'm relieved," Morgan said, a while later. "The way he was going on, I was scared he was sending us off to Azkaban."

"The Dementors aren't in Azkaban anymore," Harry reminded him, pacing back and forth in their cell. "What would be the point in shipping us off to some island when they can recreate the same miserable setting here?"

"Minus the soul-sucking wraiths bent on devouring our emotions."

"Right."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. After a few moments, Morgan turned towards Harry. "You really have no idea how we're going to get out of this one, do you?"

That hit home hard. "No," he admitted. "A part of me is still finding it hard to believe they threw us both in the dungeon."

"Slytherin, remember?" Morgan prompted. "I spent my youth in the servant's quarters, and then got sorted into Salazar's House and stuck at the bottom of the castle. Living underground feels natural to me."

"I guess it should for me, too," Harry mused, pausing for a second. "Only, my cupboard was at least sea level with the rest of the Dursley house."

"What?"

"The Dursleys," he explained. "My aunt and uncle would put me in the cupboard when I was living in Surrey. They had two spare bedrooms, but a closet was good enough for me. I think that's why I haven't grown much until recently. They only moved me to the upstairs after my Hogwarts letter came. Magic terrifies them."

Morgan didn't answer at first. "That stinks," he stated flatly. "Nice way to treat a hero."

"I'm no hero," Harry disavowed at once. "And I really couldn't care less anymore. Hogwarts has been my home for years now. I really don't care what happens to them from now on. Sorry if I was boring you or something."

"No. No, it's cool," Morgan assured him quickly. "I just... You're really nothing at all how I expected."

"Is that a compliment or an insult?"

Morgan smiled. "A little of both, but if I admit that, you'll probably wind up hexing me to death."

"We don't have our wands," Harry reminded him. "Otherwise, I could open the door. Hermione taught me that one in our first year." Harry's voice trailed off slightly. "I wonder how they're all doing..."

"About as well as we are, hopefully. As bad as things are, I really don't believe they're in any serious danger. Think about it, the teachers would never let them be hurt in any way. Whatever else might have happened, they're probably a lot safer than we are."

"The teachers probably don't know where they are," Harry mused. "Something about all of this feels wrong. I thought I knew Dumbledore at one time. I though he was the one wizard in the whole world I could trust. Dumbledore was going to fix everything, but now..."

"Now, he's holding everyone you know hostage in exchange for keeping you under control," Morgan finished. "Hard to believe, even for me."

"And the worse part is, I'm not sure things weren't always this way. So much that's happened felt like a coincidence, but now I'm starting to believe it was because someone planned it that way. But if that's the case, where does that leave me?"

"In control of your own fate, of course."

Harry and Morgan were both startled by the third voice that reverberated off the walls. Overhead, a light grew out of the dimness inside the dungeon cell until it formed a halo around them. From out of it came the shape of the Oracle, who glared down at Harry disapprovingly.

"Honestly," she scowled, glaring at him. "Do you always get this way when someone captures you?"

"It's the first time I was ever held prisoner in my own home," Harry countered. "This is taking some getting used to."

"What about last year?" Morgan asked, pointedly. "You're forgetting about Umbridge. She made everyone feel like they were prisoners here."

"Even Slytherins?"

Morgan shrugged, nonchalantly. "Not all of us thought she was a good thing, believe it or not. It just wasn't a safe time to speak out, if you remember. Some of us were put out that the centars let her go, instead of finishing the job. We were going to take up a collection before the Ministry came to take her away, but Professor Snape made us stop."

Harry blinked. "Oh."

"I hate to interrupt what I'm sure is a romantic moment between you two," the Oracle cut in, derisively. "But I projected myself all this way to rescue you. If you boys would rather be left alone in here, though..."

"What's the catch?" Harry asked, immediately.

The Oracle nodded at his statement and gave Harry a very pleased smile. "Very good. You're getting much better at this, but I came to help you because letting you rot here would mean you might never complete your bargain with me, and I have another job for you soon. Your friend, however, has no such contract with me. Therefore, I'm in no position to oblige helping him."

"Morgan helped me when I was being held by the Death Eaters," Harry told her. "He helped me get away. I never would have made it if not for him."

"Not my problem," she replied, flippantly. "You should really reconsider getting into debt with so many people. It will only end in disaster sooner or later."

"It's alright," Morgan spoke up, then. "Go with her and get yourself out."

Harry looked at him. "What? No, we'll find some way to..."

"I made my decision," he interrupted. "If you don't get out of here, there's no telling what could happen. Besides, I wouldn't expect you'd want to take me along anyway. I am a Slytherin and all. If the situation were reversed, do you think I'd stay for your sake?"

Harry felt a grin tug at his mouth. "I think you already have."

Looking up at the image of the Oracle, Harry firmly shook his head. "No deal," he told her. "If Morgan doesn't come, then I stay here."

"And risk putting yourself at the mercy of the Headmaster and his flunkies?" she challenged.

"I've been in much worse situations," he assured her. "Besides, if Dumbledore wanted me dead, he could have done it a million times before now. He needs me alive for whatever he's got planned, and even the Order of the Phoenix would get suspicious if I just up and vanished, not to mention everyone in the castle. Like it or not, I'm just too big to miss. They'll start asking questions, and we both know how much Dumbledore hates answering those."

The Oracle rolled her eyes. "I liked it better when you weren't so quick on your feet," she grumbled quietly. "Blast that girl."

Descending the rest of the way, the Oracle floated in front of Morgan's face for a moment, deliberately ignoring Harry. "You mean every word, don't you?" she pressed, gazing into his eyes. "You're not what you appear to be. I guess even I can be wrong every once in a while. Albus would be thrilled to hear."

"Fine," she stated, drawing back. "You may come as well. I'll have the house-elves take you along, too."

"The house-elves?"

The Oracle looked at Harry. "You never thought to call them yourself?"

"I did," he explained. "When we first got here, but Dobby never came, and I don't know the names of any of the others."

The Oracle tsked. "Don't even know the names of your own soldiers. What kind of commander is that? And I'm afraid Dumbledore was one step ahead of you on this one. After you used Dobby to break into his office, he had the poor elf renounced from this place. House-elves are a tricky sort, though. I'm sure he's fine."

"Dobby is a free house-elf," he reminded her. "He can go wherever he likes."

"And heed the call of whomever he choses," she reminded. "You have to want something before magic will work. This is remedial knowledge, Harry Potter. If you want to summon a house-elf that's sworn loyalty to you, needing them is a basic requirement. Call Dobby, then. I will have the other elves bring you your things. Are you certain you want to do this, though? What about your friends?"

Harry hesitated, then. "Can't we free them?"

"I am limited to what I can do here," she said, sounding genuinely regretful. "And Alberforth will eventually detect my presence, and by that fact, alert Dumbledore. My hand in this must remain concealed. If you want to free them, go now, but you may never have another chance to flee this place. It is no longer the sanctuary it once was. But think on this, Harry Potter. Are you friends in any true danger now?"

She was challenging him, pushing him to make a decision on his own. Harry knew that, and more than ever wished he didn't have to. He didn't want to chose between his friends and his freedom, but as she'd already pointed out, time was running out. In his heart, Harry knew she was right. Hogwarts was no longer safe for him. This wasn't like before, with a basilisk lurking in the pipes or one of his teachers being possessed. The danger was more real than ever, yet he had nothing to fight against. The problem was just too large for him alone to solve without help, and any of his friends who might have come up with a solution were currently held captive like himself. Yet, as the Oracle said, none of them were in danger.

He was the target here. Without him, whatever plan Dumbledore had would surely collapse. Dumbledore had ordered his brother to keep his friends locked up as collateral to be used against him, so that he would tow the line. Harry knew that, in order to beat Dumbledore at his own game, he would have to do something unexpected. Looking over at Morgan, he realized he was going to have to think like a Slytherin. For a moment, he again recalled the memory of when he'd put on the Sorting Hat, who had told him he would do well there. Now, as the decision bore down on him with all the weight of the world, Harry began to question what exactly that had meant.

"Do it," he hissed, painfully.

The silence that followed was deafening. "Are you sure?"

"No, I'm not," Harry snapped. "But do it now, before I change my mind."

With those words, Harry felt as though his stomach would churn right out of his body. His inyards felt as though they'd been transmutated into iron, the weight of which would surely bring him to his knees any moment. The Oracle watched him as he stood there below her, observing him strain against his decision. It seemed as though she were expecting him to change his mind, but when he did, her form evaperated into evanescence with a final nod. Nothing was said between he and Morgan Bloodmoon. Harry looked away, unable to deal with what he might find in the Slytherin's face.

Harry stood off by himself, trying to justify himself with his conscience, until he felt a firm hand grip him by his arm and give it a calming squeeze. Against his better judgement, Harry raised up, and was stunned to find a look of sympathetic understanding in his newfound friend's eyes. He had expected many things, but the empathy shown in Morgan's face rended him speechless.

Morgan did not let go of Harry's arm right away. Harry blinked, and looked down at it, while Morgan at the same time jerked it away as though the contact had suddenly scalded him. Both looked towards the door as the noise of the locks being tumbled open filled the room. It swung inward, and in marched a troupe of house-elves carrying with them Harry's trunk, his Invisibility Cloak, wand, and several other, smaller carriage parsels that apparently were Morgan's.

"Fast work," Morgan noted. "Remind me to call these guys if I ever get kicked out again."

The house-elves deposited the luggage in a nearby corner, then proceeded to surround Harry in a half-moon circle. "We are proud and honored to serve the one true Sock Lord," said one, bowing low.

"Yes, praise to the Sock Lord, whom we willingly serve and obey. The hero who conquered the Dark Lord!"

It sounded to Harry as though the room were suddenly filled with a bunch of cheerleaders that had been sucking down helium from balloons that had been left over from Dudley's last birthday party. Morgan couldn't contain himself, and turned away so he could quietly laugh into his hand.

"Um, thanks," was all that came to Harry's mind. "This won't get any of you into trouble, will it?"

"The servant of the Sock Lord said we were to bring this here," one readily answered.

"Yes," Harry nodded. "I meant, this won't get you punished by Dumbledore?"

"We are bound to the castle of Hogwarts," one spoke up, almost nervously. "The house-elves are not tied to one particular headmaster. We do whatever is necessary to preserve and protect our home. As the one called Dobby explained, the great Sock Lord is the defender of Hogwarts. Therefore, we swear loyalty to you, as we have done to the castle for time beyond time."

"You have to admire their loyalty," Morgan said. "When this is all over with, I'm going to think of some way to get you tell me how they wound up calling you..." And then, Morgan staggered from another fit of the giggles. "...Sock Lord."

Harry ignored him. "Thank you," he said to the house-elves. "Now, how do we get out of here?"

"We will send you beyond the borders of the castle's magic," the head elf explained, as they gathered around him and Morgan in a circle. "We is not bound by the same laws as you are. We will take you to the place at the foot of the castle grounds. The servant of the Sock Lord said she would be waiting for you there."

"Oh, right."

"So, is this going to be anything like..." Morgan started, as a loud crack filled the dungeon chamber

And with that, they were standing in a street somewhere in Hogsmeade. "...the last time?" he finished.

"Seems like it," Harry nodded. "Wait, where's our stuff?"

As if in answer, their luggage materialized next to them. "That answer your question?" Morgan teased lightly. "Now, where do we go from here? If with those little pointy-eared midgets' help, they'll be looking for us soon enough. We might want to get off the street."

"Nice to see you making friends with someone that can think," came the Oracle's voice, not far away.

Harry looked and saw the Oracle coming their way with several of her serving girls walking along behind her. "The girls will take care of your bags," she said, snapping her fingers. "Once we get inside, I'll see to the both of you. You each look as though you've had a very hard time of it. Some food and a place to rest would definitely be in order. After that, you can get started on helping Mr. Potter with his next order of business."

Neither one moved at first, even after the girls had gathered up their things. Two of them strode past he and Morgan, passing their wands back to them. He and Morgan accepted them, looking at once another rather bemused.

"Well, don't just stand there," the Oracle snapped, sounding very much like McGonagal all of a sudden. "Let's get moving."


End file.
